puzzle pieces
by everyshadedsilver
Summary: [ON HIATUS: percabeth highschool, au] "because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not." slow burn-ish. complete summary inside.
1. her: here

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy! (I apologize in advance for this monster of a chapter)**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Here by Alessia Cara (2:00AM Version)**

 _"I ask myself, what am I doing here?"_

 **Chapter I**

 **Annabeth's POV**

Annabeth rolls over on her bed and buries her face under the pillow, trying her absolute hardest to shut out the screaming match that's taking place in the room below.

 _"I'm sick and tired of your shit, Frederick!"_ Her stepmother cries. Annabeth flinches when the sound of ceramic smashing against tile reverberates through her bedroom floors. _"All you do is sit around, get drunk, and go on about your ex-wife!"_

Another smash.

 _"I'm the breadwinner in this house, Helen! Not you, **me.**_ _**I'm** the reason why you can go to those moronic socialite meetings with those airheads you call your friends! **I'm** the reason why you can afford every monthly shopping trip to the city. **I'm** the reason why Annabeth, Bobby, and Matthew can attend those private schools! I'm the reason for **all of it.**_ _What I do with my damn free time is none of your business!"_ Annabeth's father screams right back.

The sickening sound of hand slapping face fills the house as Helen retaliates, and Annabeth once again wishes she had taken Malcolm's offer when she had the chance.

But no, being the good daughter and older sister that she is, Annabeth had declined her older brother's offer to move in with him and instead willingly decided to put up with waking up to borderline abusive arguments every morning.

 _Why did she do that?_ She has yet to figure it out.

Annabeth pokes her head from under her pillow, realizing that the house is now silent. That means one of them has left- storming out of the house in a fit of anger.

That's how it usually ends anyways.

She cautiously steps out of bed, treading lightly for fear that the argument isn't really over and the screaming will start all over again. Her stomach rumbles anxiously at the thought.

After a few minutes of waiting, and after no such thing happens, Annabeth leaves her loft bedroom to go brush her teeth. She also quickly decides not to take a glimpse in the mirror, realizing that her morning is in ruins enough. There is literally _no_ reason as to why she needs to make it worse by seeing her reflection.

She closes her bedroom door and hurries off in the direction of the bathroom. From the floor below, she hears the liquor cabinet opening as Helen prepares for her early morning drink. Annabeth is so caught up in silently judging her stepmother that she accidentally bumps into one of the twins.

"Ow," he complains, rubbing his nose with a frown on his face. He glares up at Annabeth, but she notices his eyes are slightly bloodshot and wet.

That raises an eyebrow. "Matthew? Are you okay?" She asks concernedly, attempting to give him a kind smile. He's obviously been crying.

The ten-year-old scowls instead, his slightly slanted dark eyes narrowing as he shakes his wavy blond hair out of his eyes. He needs a haircut, she notes. "What's it to you, anyway? Leave me alone." He mumbles.

Said boy pushes past her with a sniff, leaving Annabeth, slightly hurt, to stand in the hallway alone. The blonde girl shakes it off as best as she can and enters the bathroom, purposefully diverting her gaze from the mirror.

After brushing her teeth, she goes back to her bedroom to begrudgingly pull on her school uniform.

It seemed (to Annabeth, at least) that St. Goodeworth's Private Charter Academy (or preferably referred to as Goode or Goode's Charter by the students) purposefully made it so that their uniforms would be not only uncomfortable but hideous as well.

Annabeth shudders as she pulls on the black and purple plaid skirt and buttons up the white long-sleeved blouse that comes with it. After tucking it in (as is insisted upon by the faculty), she quickly ties the black necktie and shrugs on her black sleeveless woolen vest. The blonde pulls her waist-length curls into a ponytail and slips into her worn down flats.

 _Just a few more months, Annabeth._ She whispers words of encouragement to herself as she gathers her school things. _Just a few more months, and then you can leave- just like you've always wanted._

Her phone vibrates from its position on her bedside table. Annabeth quickly lays her books on her bed and grabs at her phone, smiling when she reads the name. She immediately picks up.

"You're up really early today. Even for you," She jokes, glancing at her alarm clock. The sun is just barely peeking over the tree line outside, washing the sky a dozen shades ranging from blood red to baby pink.

Malcolm yawns from the other end of the line. "I know." He lets out a groan. "But you know I like to check up on my little sister every now and again. I miss you."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and sits down on the edge of her unmade bed. "I miss you too, but I hope you realize that guilt-tripping me won't work."

Her older brother huffs. "Well, I certainly can _try_." The line is silent for a few seconds before he continues on, quieter. "I don't like the thought of you living in that house."

Annabeth sucks in a sharp breath as she stands. She'll be late if she doesn't get moving. "I already told you, Malcolm. _I'm_ _fine_." She half-lies, the sound of her parents' screams scrambling across her thoughts.

 _It's just that Dad isn't._

"Don't lie to me, Annabeth." Is his curt reply.

The seventeen-year-old rolls her eyes again, and before she can take it back, she retorts. "It's funny _you_ would say that." There is a lot more venom than she ever would have anticipated dripping from her words.

Malcolm remains silent.

Annabeth's stomach begins to churn at the hush that has fallen over the line. She begins to mumble out a quick apology, her tongue tripping over her words, but Malcolm is already speaking.

He changes the subject, and if he is affected at all by Annabeth's statement- he doesn't let on. "Anyways, the real reason why I'm calling is because I'm coming over for dinner tonight."

The blonde nearly drops her phone in surprise. Any regret that was readily brewing in her stomach is flushed away as excitement quickly takes its place. She presses the phone against her ear and flops backwards on her bed. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Don't know a reason as to why I'd lie about that." Malcolm chuckles.

Annabeth rolls over on her stomach, a grin pulling at her lips. "Does my dad know? Did you tell him?" She drills him with questions.

Malcolm laughs again at his younger sister's enthusiasm. "Yes, he knows. He's the one who invited me, actually."

The younger blonde raises an eyebrow at that, instantly sitting up. Her joviality quiets down as dread fills her stomach. "My dad... invited _you_?"

"Yeah, I was pretty surprised too. I'm 87% sure that the man despises me."

"He does." Annabeth deadpans. "I wonder why he would invite you..."

"I honestly don't know." Malcolm agrees. He pauses briefly before continuing. "Listen, Annabeth, I gotta go. I'll call you later, okay?"

She nods, disappointed that she has to say goodbye so soon. "Okay. Bye, Malcolm. Love you."

"I love you, Buttercup." He responds.

The line goes dead.

Annabeth stands up and gathers her school things again. Her eyes flash to the clock. She's borderline late, she realizes with a groan. The high school student rushes out of her bedroom. She then continues down the hall and races down the stairs.

"Your father left the car keys on the counter. You're taking the boys to school today." Helen speaks to her stepdaughter as soon as Annabeth enters the kitchen. She pours herself another glass of wine.

Annabeth takes a glance at the clock, her eyes widening. "But then I'll be late and I-" Annabeth's voice falters at the sight of her stepmother's withering glare. She shrinks back instantly and nods, clamping her mouth shut.

Matthew snickers under his breath before slipping in another spoon of cereal.

Annabeth swallows and grabs a cereal bar from the pantry. Turning towards her brothers, she speaks up. "We have to leave in 5 minutes at the latest. I really can't be late today."

Bobby nods and finishes his toast before disappearing upstairs to grab his backpack. "Okey dokey, Beth." He's the nicer one.

Matthew, on the other hand, scowls again, his dark eyes tightening. "So what if you're a little late? If we leave now then Bobby and I'll be half an hour early for school."

Annabeth manages a weak smile as she twists a curl of hair between her thumb and forefinger. Her stomach rumbles. "Sorry," is all she can say.

Matthew rolls his eyes and finishes his cereal. "Whatever." Then, after placing his bowl in the sink, he turns again to Annabeth. "You ruin everything."

"Matthew," Helen halfheartedly warns before taking another sip of liquor. Her eyes are glossed over as she swirls her glass, her mind clearly in another place.

The ten-year-old in question stares at his mother for a few moments before he shakes his head and leaves. He stomps up the staircase.

Annabeth lets loose another breath, already praying for the day to be over. She watches her stepmother gulp down yet another glass of alcohol and somewhere in the back of her mind, Annabeth again curses herself for declining Malcolm's offer.

The air between them is silent and still for the few minutes before the twins reappear in the doorway. Bobby is carrying a large volcano model (that Annabeth helped him build the week before) and Matthew grips the two paged report in his hands.

The twins wave at their mother halfheartedly, who simply grunts in response, then go on into the garage where the Range Rover is waiting.

Annabeth slips the keys between her fingers. She murmurs a quick goodbye to her stepmother. "I'll see you after school, Helen."

"Bye, Annabeth." Is the half-drunk woman's response.

Annabeth spins on her heel and descends into the garage. The twins are waiting impatiently by the car doors.

"Can you honestly hurry up?" Matthew whines, rolling his eyes again.

Bobby shoots him a look, a frown pulling at his lips. "Chill out, Matt. What's wrong with you?"

His twin grumbles something incoherently under his breath but doesn't respond. Annabeth unlocks the doors and presses the button that raises the garage gate. "Everybody buckled in?" She calls from the front seat.

A chorus of acknowledgment crows from behind her and Annabeth slowly backs out of the driveway, her fingers tapping against the steering wheel furiously.

 _Just a few more months. Just a few more months._

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Before school.**

"Bob leaves for a trip at 3pm (time t=0) and drives with velocity v(t) = 60 - 1/2(t) miles per hour, where t is measured in hours. Find- _now what the fuck is that?_ "

Annabeth forces herself not to laugh as she fixates her elbows on the tabletop.

The student seated across from her looks up from the calculus book, fury dancing in her multicolored eyes as she gazes at Annabeth in disbelief. She leans back in her seat and folds her arms over her chest, her lips dropping into a pout. "I can't believe you're laughing at me."

Annabeth bites down another chuckle and sobers her expression immediately. "Nobody's laughing at you, Piper, I promise."

Said girl rolls her eyes and reproachfully glares at the textbook in front of her. "None of this makes any sense. This should be illegal, honestly."

Now it's Annabeth's turn to roll her eyes. She quickly shakes her head and rotates the book so that they both can look at it with ease. "You're making it harder than it has to be, McLean-"

"-Says the one with an IQ of 153," the Native girl grumbles under her breath.

Annabeth flicks her in the arm. " _Listen to me_ ," she urges, a faint laugh dancing over her words.

Piper lets loose another exaggerated eye roll, but she raises her eyebrows as well- a gesture that Annabeth has learned through their time together that means she's listening.

Annabeth takes the pencil and gestures to the symbol on the page. "It's just an integral. It can't hurt you. Look," Annabeth begins to solve the problem. Every so often, she glances at the girl beside her to make sure she's following along. "The problem wants you to find the integral and then explain what it represents in the language of the problem."

Piper presses her forehead into the desk, letting out a low groan. "I hate this so much."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and pokes the girl with the eraser. "Don't be such a baby. You can do it," she smiles. "Really."

Piper lifts her head, giving the blonde a hateful glare, before grabbing the pencil and turning towards the book. Her eyebrows knit together. "Okay, so if I'm supposed to find the integral... that means I... find the... _value_ first, right?" She chews on her lip and turns to her tutor.

Annabeth nods, a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "See? You got it already. What's next?"

Piper stares at the page in front of her, a frown pulling on her lips for the next few minutes before her eyes light up and she smacks her forehead. " _Eureka!_ " She shrieks, eliciting a _shh!_ from the librarian.

"Did you figure it out?" Annabeth asks, already knowing the response.

"I'm an idiot," Piper breathes, scribbling down the answer.

Annabeth shakes her head. "No, you're brilliant. You barely even needed my help with this one."

Piper hums in acknowledgment as she finishes up the problem.

The curly-haired blonde doesn't even look down at the answer. A grin is tugging at her lips. "Can you explain this one back to me?"

Piper nods, her chocolate brown choppy hair swishing around her shoulders. "So to explain what the integral represents in the language of the problem, I needed to know the units for t and the units for the integral itself."

"And those are...?"

"T is measured in hours and v(t) is measured in miles per hour. _So_ , the only reasonable solution is that the integral is measured in miles."

"Good job, you got the problem right." Annabeth grins, pride swelling in her chest.

Piper raises an eyebrow. "But I didn't even finish explaining it to you, though."

Annabeth shakes her head, her eyelashes brushing against the top of her cheeks for a few moments. "You don't need to. I already know you got it right." Then, for good measure, Annabeth quickly scans the student's work. After a few seconds, she hands the paper back. "See? It's all right."

Piper grins, her blinding white teeth coming through. "Finally!"

Annabeth begins to congratulate her, but the morning bell begins to ring and she knows that they both need to go to homeroom. She settles for a smile and a nod instead. "Same time next week?"

Piper nods in response, already gathering her things. She grabs her phone and smiles at Annabeth. "Of course! You sitting with us at lunch today?"

The blonde-haired girl feels a rumble in her stomach as she smiles weakly. She shakes her head, already declining before she can open her mouth. "You already know I'm more comfortable eating in here, Piper."

Said girl nods. "It was worth a shot. I'll see you around, Annabeth." Piper then turns around and leaves the library, most likely off in search of her boyfriend.

Annabeth takes a deep breath as she collects her books.

After every tutoring session, like clockwork, Piper invites the blonde to sit with her and her friends at lunch.

And every time, Annabeth politely declines.

 _I don't understand how you can complain about having almost no friends, and yet you still refuse to sit with Piper at lunch._ Annabeth scolds herself as she waves to the librarian and steps into the hallway.

 _Because the cafeteria makes you nervous._ She reminds herself.

Annabeth almost laughs out loud in bitterness. Of course, a four-walled room filled with tables and chairs makes her nervous.

Seemingly everything does, nowadays.

 _Except for Piper._ She reminds herself as she arrives at her locker. Annabeth unlocks it and deposits her calculus book inside. She won't be needing it until sixth period.

One of these days," she whispers to herself as she reties her ponytail. "I'm going to wow myself and eat with Piper at lunch."

She closes her locker and heads off to homeroom, successfully blending into the background and dodging anyone loud.

"And possibly throw myself into cardiac arrest while doing it." She adds as an afterthought with a laugh.

* * *

 **4th period. Right before lunch.**

" _Annabeth! Hey!"_ A familiar joyous voice calls from behind her.

Annabeth whips around, clutching her gym shirt in her hands as she attempts to cover herself. Suddenly she is face to face with a gorgeous blue-eyed girl, her long black hair is curled to perfection and her white smile is dazzling.

Silena Beauregard.

Sometime in the past three months (which coincidentally coincides with the fact that Annabeth transferred into the 4th period PE class because she needed the credit), Silena has made it her mission to become Annabeth's friend.

And it seems that today is the day she succeeds.

The blonde smiles weakly and offers a small wave, hoping to convey a message of discomfort to the head cheerleader. "Hey, Silena."

If Silena understands the message, she doesn't let on. She places her manicured hands on her hips and cocks her head to the side. "You didn't come to my party last Saturday. Everybody missed you." Her lips drop into a pout that resembles Piper's and Drew's so well, it nearly gives Annabeth vertigo. She often forgets the trio are all half-sisters.

Annabeth hurriedly sleeves on her shirt and ties her long curls up into a bun. "Are you sure?"

"She's lying to you, Bethy. Literally nobody noticed." Drew Tanaka snarls from her position a few lockers away. She's surrounded by Nancy Bobofit and Lacy Phrodite and a few others, who all force chuckles.

Silena grimaces in her sister's direction. "Just because you look like the Grinch, doesn't necessarily mean you have to act like him, Drew. Piss off, will you?"

The East Asian girl rolls her eyes in response and leaves the locker room, her "friends" straggling in tow.

Silena turns back to Annabeth, who is in the process of planning her escape. "Don't listen to Drew. She's just bitter because Mom used up the last of her favorite brow filler for a date last night." The girl then proceeds to link her arm in Annabeth's. "Are you sitting with us at lunch today?"

Annabeth's stomach grumbles at both the mention of food and the thought of sitting with Piper, Silena, Drew, and the others. She shakes her head, a few strands coming loose from her bun as the pair leave the locker room. "Sorry," she offers a weak apology.

"Don't be." Silena smiles warmly as she leads Annabeth towards the bleachers, where her group of friends sit talking amongst each other before class starts. The blue-eyed girl then takes a gaze at Annabeth's hair and her grin widens. "You know," she begins, a tone of thoughtfulness entering her voice. "You should really let your hair down more often. It's so beautiful. Is that its natural shade?"

Annabeth barely hears her. Her focus is on the group of athletes lounging on the bleachers.

"Annabeth?"

"Hmm?" The girl whips her head to the side. They've stopped. Annabeth blushes. "Sorry, what was that?"

Silena's expression softens. "Your hair?"

"What about it?" Annabeth is instantly self-conscious. Her stomach rumbles as anxiety fills her chest.

Silena rolls her eyes playfully. "Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with it." She smiles. "In fact, I was just saying that you should let it down more."

Heat spreads in Annabeth's cheeks as the pair arrive at the foot of the bleachers. "It needs a haircut." She protests.

"Don't be silly. Anyways," Silena turns away from the blonde and gestures to the group sitting a few rows up. "Guys, I made a new friend!" She cries out enthusiastically.

"Damn, Silena, you make it sound like she's an injured bird you found in your backyard."

 _That's basically what happened._ Annabeth thinks to herself.

Silena rolls her eyes at the comment, slightly less playfully that time. "Shut the hell up, Travis. You sound like an injured bird." Silena's halfhearted glare is directed towards a curly brown-haired boy with green eyes.

Travis sticks out his tongue before turning his attention towards Annabeth. She suddenly feels the urge to shrink back and hide behind Silena. He grins. "Travis Stoll, at your service."

Annabeth nods, pressing her lips together, and waggles her fingers a bit. A deeper blush spreads further on her cheeks.

Silena pulls Annabeth up the bleachers and sits her down beside her. Almost immediately, she launches into introductions.

"Everyone, this is Annabeth. She's like, ridiculously smart and tutors Piper every Wednesday. Annabeth, this is Frank Zhang," Silena gestures to a well built East Asian boy with a crew cut. He sort of reminds her of an old teddy bear that she used to have. A gift from her mother when she was a child- Mr. Olympus. He smiles warmly at her before turning back to his conversation.

"Rachel Dare," A girl with red hair almost as curly as Annabeth's grins wildly at her, her jade green eyes sparkling. Her PE uniform is splattered with paint.

"You already know Travis Stoll the bathtub scum. Well, that's his brother Connor, slightly younger bathtub scum." Silena points out a boy whose facial features mirrors Travis' down to the tee, except his eyes are blue.

Silena carries on with introductions, and although Annabeth hasn't said a word, she's is drained. She vaguely remembers a Grover Underwood, a Juniper, and a Charles Beckendorf.

Annabeth's head is swimming with names and faces and she's mentally praying for the period to end soon. Although she understands that Silena is only trying to be nice, what she really, really, wants is to be alone.

Preferably sooner than later.

Two pairs of hands appear from behind her and begin twirling her loose strands of hair around their fingers. Annabeth nearly jumps a mile and falls off the bleachers, her heart slamming into her ribs.

"Is that your _natural_ hair color?" The caramel haired girl- Calypso- asks eagerly.

 _Why is everyone asking that?_

Annabeth's stomach grumbles as she nods again. "Yes," she murmurs weakly.

"You lucky ass bitch." Rachel laughs. "What I would give to have blonde hair. But no- my grandmother cursed me with this menstruation colored mess." She grumbles, picking up a piece of frizzy ginger hair before allowing it to fall back to her shoulders.

Calypso punches her arm and frowns in distaste. "You're repulsive, Rachel."

"So I've been told." Is her cheeky response.

Annabeth fakes a smile again and closes her eyes, wanting to be anywhere but there.

"Jesus, lay off her will you? You're freaking her out, you losers." An unfamiliar voice jokes, causing Annabeth to turn, opening her eyes on the way.

He's tall, with golden blonde hair and a pale scar on his face. His shoulders are broad and his icy blue eyes are as kind as his smile.

Annabeth could recognize him anywhere, what with Piper always going on about him after their sessions. She's seen enough pictures to last her a lifetime, she realizes.

"My man, Jason G!" Travis hollers. "Since when are you in this class?" Travis squints, his eyes narrowing as he gazes at his friend. "And since when do you wear glasses?"

Annabeth takes this as an opportunity to shrink back.

"Are those framed in _gold?_ What the fuck, Jason. Honestly. We know your dad is rich and all- but is that even _necessary?_ " Connor cuts in, disbelief and incredulity oozing into his words.

Jason rolls his eyes, the scar on his lip curling into a crescent as he smiles. "Are you two bitter? You both sound bitter." His grin widens.

The two boys merely flip him off and turn back to their conversation with Frank and Grover about the pros and cons of vegan deodorant.

Jason pushes his glasses farther up his nose before shoving his hands into his dark chinos, slightly rocking on the balls of his feet. "Anyways," he begins. "I'm looking for Coach Hedge. Has anyone seen him? It's really important."

The boy that Annabeth recognizes as Charles Beckendorf (or _Beck-_ as she realizes that's what everyone is referring to him as), jerks his head in the direction of the gym office. "Coach's still in his office. Wondering what's taking him so long, class was supposed to start 10 minutes ago."

Connor twitches in his seat, excitement sparking in his electric eyes. "Which means in five minutes we're legally allowed to ditch class." He grins mischievously.

Annabeth shrinks further back in her seat beside Silena.

Jason rolls his eyes but doesn't respond to Connor's comment. He nods at Beckendorf with a small smile. "Thanks, Beck." The blond-haired boy then shoves his hands further into the pockets of his chinos and lopes off in the direction of the gym offices.

"Anytime, Grace." Beckendorf calls after him, his heavily muscled arm drapes over Silena's slender shoulders.

"Should I set a five-minute timer?" Connor wonders aloud. Frank shakes his head and murmurs something that Annabeth can't catch.

"So... what's your deal?" A voice startles Annabeth from her observations.

She jerks her head towards the direction from which it came, more strands of hair coming loose from her bun as her eyes widen. Her stomach rumbles. "What?"

Beckendorf grins, and Annabeth notices that he has dimples. "Your deal. Like..." he waves his hands around a bit- as if struggling to find the right word. Annabeth also notices that he's picked up the gesture from Silena. Interesting. "What do you do? I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?"

Annabeth blushes as Silena smacks her boyfriend across the chest. " _Charlie!_ " Her voice is a tad shrill as she exclaims. "Don't be a jackass."

He shrugs with a flair of nonchalance, but his dark eyes are glittering. "It was just an honest question," He begins, his gaze never leaving Annabeth. "Nobody's being a jackass."

Silena merely huffs in response before turning back to the blonde. "Charlie's a bit filter-less. It's not his fault though. He's slowly losing his brain-to-mouth filter after all the time he spends with the Stolls now that basketball season's started." She rolls her eyes again, but a smile is pulling at the corner of her lips.

 _She smiles a lot._ Annabeth thinks to herself.

The blonde nods again and swallows, trying her hardest to dispel the butterflies that have seemingly made nests in the pits of her stomach.

Beckendorf continues. "Anyways, what classes are you in?"

Annabeth settles for a shrug, unable to offer up even the tiniest of smiles. "Mostly DE's. I only have four other classes to take this year." She twists a runaway curl of hair between her thumb and forefinger.

Beckendorf whistles, clearly impressed. "That's what's up," he nods. "You're a serious whiz kid, aren't you?"

Annabeth shrugs again, diverting her eyes. Her cheeks redden even more.

Silena pokes her boyfriend in the cheek. "Didn't I tell you? Didn't _Piper_ tell you?" She grins at Annabeth. "She's literally GPA Jesus."

Annabeth chuckles a little under her breath before realizing it. Silena perks up immediately, pride expanding in her eyes. Annabeth once again diverts her gaze.

She closes her eyes, tuning out everything around her and leans over to lay her head on her lap- an upside to being one of the tiniest girls at Goode's Charter.

Annabeth does not know how long she is curled up (practically into a ball). But before long, she hears the sound of rubber-soled tennis shoes squeaking against freshly waxed gym floors as someone approaches the bleachers.

She curls farther into her "practical ball," her stomach rumbling at the thought of _more_ _people._

 _Because honestly- how many friends did Silena have in this gym class?_ _She can't be friends with the entire roster, can she?_

 _Is she?_

An odd scent of saltwater and cinnamon brown sugar wafts into her nostrils, and if it isn't for the constant chitter-chatter of Silena's friends, Annabeth can imagine she's standing on the shore of the North Long Island Sound.

Yet another unfamiliar voice speaks, but something about it intrigues Annabeth. Not enough for her to come out of hiding, but enough for her to listen.

It's deep and rich and it ripples through the room. She can almost hear the vibrations that resonate from the owner's chest as he speaks. The voice is kind and warm and reminds Annabeth of velvet.

"Has anyone seen Leo?" The voice is saying, coming from somewhere by the foot of the bleachers.

A chorus of " _Who?_ " comes from the group that Annabeth sits beside. The voice groans.

"The sophomore? He kind of looks like a Latino elf? Stupid amazing at woodshop?" A pause. " _Really guys?_ He _only_ sat with us for a month last year when Calypso tried to-"

The group murmurs in unison, seemingly recalling the boy that the voice is describing. Calypso interrupts him mid-sentence. "We promised not to bring that up again." She whines. "Not to bring _him_ up again."

Rachel snorts. "So you got your heart broken by a freshman last year- big whoop. It's total karma for what went down that one year at Halloween when you-"

Rachel's voice is suddenly cut off as Calypso attacks her with a weapon unknown. The voice from the foot of the bleachers groans again.

"I love you guys, but you're all useless, to be honest. I'll see you at lunch- if I find Leo." Once again the sound of footsteps walking away fills Annabeth's ears.

 _Just a few more months, Annabeth. Just a few more months._

* * *

 **A/N: And so our story begins! Thanks for reading!**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


	2. his: zombie

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Zombie by Bad Wolves (cover of The Cranberries' original)**

 _"Another head hangs lowly- c_ _hild is slowly taken."_

 **Chapter II**

 **Percy's POV**

Percy wakes up to an empty apartment.

A familiar brief wave of panic snakes its way through his chest (as it usually does in the mornings) before he realizes that he has no reason to be scared.

Not anymore, he doesn't.

His home is empty.

As usual.

He groans as he fumbles around, searching for the snooze button on the alarm clock that disrupted his slumber. His hands haphazardly slam into empty Monster and Red Bull drink cans throughout his search, causing a ruckus. He flinches as the collection crashes to the wooden floor, praying that the neighbors suffer from temporary deafness.

He opens his eyes, finally coming to the decision that if he doesn't do so, his lamp might be put at risk.

And he can't have that.

He finally finds the snooze button and practically punches it, sorely bitter about the fact that he still has to wake up early every morning to force himself into a uniform and go to school. Especially when all he _really_ wants to do is to go to the hospital and visit his mother.

Another reason why he prefers weekends, he realizes.

Percy sits up in his bed, drinking in the silence and rubbing his eyes before peeling them open. His bedroom is as dark as the outdoors, long shadows drifting over the walls- their silhouettes reminding him of Peter Pan (for a strange reason). Through his window, he can see that the sky is a rich shade of navy blue before it melts into tones of reds, oranges, and pinks as the sun rises. The sky is cloudless and the crescent moon is still very much lit.

He sits there in bed for a little while, doubt plaguing his senses before he finally forces himself to get out of bed and get ready.

 _It is a battle every morning to get out of bed._

 _But today is another victory._

He flicks on the light, hissing out a string of profanities as he shields his eyes. After a few moments of getting accustomed to it, Percy opens his eyes and immediately starts for his bedroom door, his hands outreached.

He trudges towards the bathroom, his gait matching in speed with his mind as he slowly reels. He vaguely recalls the news he received the night before.

Percy stares at himself in the mirror. His reflection is frowning back at him, his thick eyebrows furrowing and his slightly plump lips pulling downwards in the corners.

 _"You've always had your father's natural brooding look,"_ His mother tells him in his mind, her voice soft and serene and kind as it has always been.

He swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and immediately fixes his face, grinning as hard as he can as he watches his expression change.

He fails.

The grin doesn't quite reach his eyes and Percy wonders how long his smiles have been failing.

The eighteen-year-old reaches for his toothbrush and toothpaste and begins to brush his teeth, bits and pieces of last night continually falling into place.

 _"How long does she have?" He questions, butterflies taking root in his stomach as fear slowly inches in._

 _"I'm going to be honest with you, Percy."_ _A sorrowful pause._ _"It's not looking the best." The doctor continues._

 _"How long does she have?" He repeats._

 _"As of now... only a few more months. Best case scenario- she gets to see you graduate. I'm sorry, Percy."_

Percy's hands grip the edge of the sink, his toothbrush clattering to the floor. His body is shaking and vibrating in spasms and fear has taken control over his heart and-

He suddenly stills, his gaze flickering up to his own reflection. His mouth is covered in toothpaste foam and his stormy sea-green eyes resemble cracked glass. He rinses off and while doing so, he comes to the realization that his smiles have been failing for quite some time.

 _Just a few more months,_ his subconscious taunts him. _Can you handle that, Percy?_

He flees from the bathroom, tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he slams his bedroom door closed and curls into a ball on the floor.

 _Can I handle it?_ He questions himself.

 _No, I can't._ He answers.

Percy slowly unfurls as he takes a long gaze at his bed, doubt taking residence in his gut.

 _Is this morning really another victory... or did the enemy only retreat to regroup?_

...He has yet to figure it out.

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

It's Jason that saves him.

As it always is.

A blond knight in shining Goode uniform, his cousin lets himself in with the key that Sally had gifted him a few years prior. Percy's stomach grumbles at the thought of Jason finding him like this, but he knows that he's seen Percy at his worst. And his current state is definitely not his worst.

Not that it makes it any better, however.

"Perce? You awake?" Jason calls as he walks through the apartment.

Percy is lying on his back, his spine pressed against his mattress as he stares at his bedroom ceiling in contempt, still undressed.

Suddenly there is a clatter outside his door and Jason cries out. " _Fuck!_ " Another crash. "Percy, this place is a pigsty! What the _hell_?"

His bedroom door is thrown open and Percy doesn't even lift his head. He rolls over onto his stomach and in turn, begins to glare at his alarm clock in contempt.

There is a pause before Jason sighs dramatically and shuts the door behind him. "Well, good morning to you too, ass hat." He grumbles as he slowly makes his way through the small bedroom. His blond cousin takes a seat beside him, and for a few minutes, the pair are silent.

The silence is broken soon enough, though. " _Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey, Percy,_ " Jason croons in his ear.

Percy rolls his eyes, but already a minuscule smile is fearlessly fighting its way towards the corners of his lips. "Fuck off, Jason."

His friend scoffs. "I'm so serious. Get the hell up, you'll be late for practice."

Percy finally sits up after sucking a sharp breath through his nose. "Missing practice won't kill anyone." He grumbles as he stares at the threads that have come loose from his comforter. He rips one out, a bit satisfied.

Jason pushes him off the bed. Percy lands on his butt in a flare of pain and quickly scrambles up to give his cousin a withering glare. Jason remains unaffected as he continues. "I'm going to ignore that because I know you're not in your correct state of mind right now." His icy blue eyes turn on him as he goes on, a degree gentler. "Tell you what- if you get up now and get to practice... I promise to take you to visit her after school."

 _Just a few more months,_ his subconscious breathes across his mind.

Percy flinches without meaning to.

He starts to busy himself, hoping that Jason hasn't noticed. He pulls on a pair of slacks and sends another eye roll at his cousin. "Well, boohoo to you because your promise is invalid. I was going to visit her anyway. Besides, don't you and Piper have that thing with your parents later?"

Jason tosses him a fresh button-up shirt and a plain black necktie before answering. "I think you're forgetting that your car is in the shop, Perce. And anyways- Piper isn't supposed to come over until 7. I could drop you off, stay for an hour or so, go home, and then come back to pick you up once visiting hours are over. Everybody wins." A thoughtful pause. " _Sorta._ " He adds sheepishly as an afterthought.

"Don't remind me," Percy halfheartedly mumbles at the thought of his car needing a new ( _expensive_ ) engine. He can already feel his good humor slowly starting to come back, a result of Jason's presence no doubt. His blond friend tends to have that effect on everyone he encounters. Percy ties his tie and then proceeds to pull on his Converses that have definitely seen better days.

"Tuck in your shirt," Jason reminds him, standing up and smoothing down the wrinkles in his black chinos. He pushes his glasses farther up his nose and smiles a little, the scar on his lip curling up into a crescent as it always does when he's bemused.

Percy rolls his eyes. "What are you, my grandmother?"

"I hope you'll continue with that same sass while you're sitting in Dean Winchester's office for not following dress code." His cousin fires right back, strolling past him and exiting the room.

Percy mumbles insults to himself (that are directed towards his cousin because " _who the hell does he think he is?"_ ) as he stuffs his shirt into the waistband of his pants, not bothering to look for his belt. He already knows that the accessory disappeared somewhere in the depths of his closet the year before. There's no use looking for it now- he'll find it when he moves out, he figures.

The high school student hears the sound of the fridge opening as Jason begins to help himself to a hearty breakfast of cinnamon sugar chocolate chip cookies. "What the hell is up with all these energy drinks, Percy?" He calls out, his tone of voice reflecting concern.

Percy slugs his backpack and swim bag over his shoulders before following Jason into the kitchen. He passes his cousin, who is sitting on the edge of the sink with a handful of cookies in his hand, and reaches into the refrigerator to pull out another Monster.

"What, did you think all the energy I have by lunchtime comes _naturally_? Don't make me laugh, Jason." He fakes a chuckle before prying the can open with a satisfying _pop!_.

Jason stuffs another cookie in his mouth and rolls his eyes. "Whatever, we need to get going. Grover and Thalia are waiting in the car. Chop, chop, Fish Breath." He states between swallows.

"Thalia hates me- and quit calling me that by the way- why in the world would she agree to ride with you?"

"Don't flatter yourself. Thalia hates everyone."

"True that."

The pair exit the apartment and Percy locks the door behind him, his conscience slightly lighter than before. He swigs down another gulp of Monster (much to Jason's chagrin) and presses the button that alerts the elevator to descend.

"You know too much of that stuff will kill you," Jason warns him as they enter the elevator. His reproachful glare is directed at the tall aluminum can.

"We all die. You either kill yourself or get killed. Whatchu gonna do?" Is Percy's cheeky response. He locks eyes with his blond cousin and slowly takes another sip of the energy drink, a small smirk pulling at a corner of his lip.

Jason shakes his head in disappointment and flips him off.

Percy grins to himself.

 _Another victory._

They exit the elevator and wave at the security guard behind the front desk. Their footsteps squeak against the shiny tiled floors of the lobby.

"Morning, Argus." They call in unison.

The shaggy blond-haired man raises a hand in greeting. His eyes- one blue, and the other a mixture of brown and green- brighten as the teenagers pass. He scratches his slight stubble with his free hand, a smile forming on his face. "Morning, boys!"

Percy takes in a deep breath and pushes through the revolving doors of their apartment building. His lungs are filled with new fervor as encouragement (and exhaustion) expand in his chest.

 _Today really_ is _another victory,_ he realizes.

He catches the familiar sight of his cousin's silver Toyota Supra- a gift from Jason's father after he raised his GPA to a 4.2- and whistles lowly under his breath. "I still can't get over her," He breathes.

Jason nods, his eyes are breezy. "That's my baby," He agrees.

Percy casts him a sideways look and snorts. "I'm sure Piper would _love_ to hear that."

His friend rolls his eyes. "Piper already knows all about my feelings for Tempest here." He sticks out his tongue before rounding around the car to open the driver's seat door. "Nice try, though."

" _Peerrrrccyyyyyy,_ " Grover happily bleats as the eighteen-year-old enters the car. He whips around in his seat and grins sloppily.

"Grover, shut the hell up" Thalia growls, not even looking up from her phone. Percy warily slides over once more towards the window, attempting to get as far away from his older cousin as possible.

Oh, how the times have changed.

Jason clicks on his seatbelt and starts the car. With a stern voice, he addresses everyone. The other three look up. "No fighting in my car." A pause. And then, with a snarky grin, he continues. "Unless you want to walk to school."

Thalia immediately shuts up but rolls her eyes and turns back to her phone nonetheless.

Percy breathes out a sigh of relief and lays his head against the window, exhaustion pulling at his eyelids.

Jason turns slowly onto the busy streets of their town and Percy once again hears the sound of Grover's voice.

"Percy?" He calls, a tone of concern has entered his words.

The black-haired boy grunts, but doesn't open his eyes. Sleep is calling him from the depths of his gut.

"Perce,"

He groans and forces his eyes open. "What is it, Grover?"

His best friend has a frown on his face, and his ginger curls are messy- as per usual. His brown eyes are narrowed and his head is cocked to the side. "You look dead."

Percy sits up, and with his expression stale, he answers in monotone. "Then I guess my looks reflect exactly how I feel."

He doesn't fail to notice Jason sucking a sharp intake of air as his hands grip the steering wheel a bit harder. Thalia snorts and Grover's eyebrows lower some more.

"Are you sure you're okay, Percy?" He asks. He chews his lower lip.

Percy sighs, realizing that his best friend is only trying to help. He pinches the bridge of his nose before giving way to the upcoming yawn. He nods slightly, his eyelids fluttering closed for a few brief moments before he answers. His cheeks long for the feel of his eyelashes. "Yeah, I'm fine." Enter another yawn. "I just- went to sleep _really_ late last night." He holds up the can of Monster and swirls it a little, a forced grin pulling at his lips. "Hence the Monster."

His gaze is hazy as his eyes close one at a time, his grin subsiding a little bit. Sleep grips him like a vice, and all Percy wants is to _give in_.

Even Thalia is concerned a little. She turns to her cousin, her electric blue eyes crackling with what seems like lightning. "How late is _really_ _late_ , Percy?" She questions; her voice is a little less gruff than usual.

Jason holds his breath and Percy rolls his eyes.

He quickly turns on his phone to check the time. Then, after another yawn has come through, he answers lazily. "Like... two hours ago?"

The driver slams on the brakes and immediately Jason pulls over, punching the hazard lights. The car is filled to the brim with shouts and Percy groans under his breath as he feels an incoming headache.

Thalia hits him on the arm- hard- before growling. "Are you a fucking _idiot_?" Her words are sharper than the numerous edges of a Swiss Army knife.

Grover swallows and turns around in his seat, facing the front. He's shaking his head and muttering incoherent words under his breath.

Jason does the opposite and gives Percy a hard stare. "That isn't healthy, Jackson."

 _What is?_

Percy ignores him. "Nothing is healthy," He mumbles to himself before resting his head against the window. When the car is silent and Percy doesn't feel any movement, he continues. "C'mon, we need to get going. I'll be late to swim."

He is met with silence.

The eighteen-year-old groans, and without opening his eyes, he continues. "Jason, I'm serious. You know that I can't afford to lose-"

The car roars to life, cutting him off. Percy grins a little to himself before getting comfortable.

His cousin slowly pulls back into traffic, his thumbs tapping furiously against the steering wheel and taking deep breaths.

The car settles into a semi-comfortable silence, and Percy is thankful for the peace and quiet.

And once again, he is left alone to his thoughts.

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Homeroom. After practice.**

"Fuck." Percy curses as he stares at the screen of his phone, the email from Dean Winchester stares back at him.

 _Meet with Coach Hedge and Coach Triton during your free period. Your current grade in Anatomy needs to be discussed._ The main gist of it says.

"And then, I had to do it to them. Y'know what I did? I pulled the good ole- _Are you even paying attention to me?_ "

"Huh?" The black-haired high school student looks up, and reality slowly starts to sink back in.

Travis rolls his eyes from his seat beside him and shakes his head. "You weren't listening, were you, Perce?"

Percy feels his cheeks warm, and for a flitting moment, he is thankful for his darker skin tone that is (without a shadow of a doubt) hiding his blush. He scratches the back of his neck before continuing on with a shrug. "I really wasn't," he replies with honesty. "I've got other things on my mind as of now. Sorry?" He weakly tries for an apology at the end.

From behind him, Frank snorts and off to his left Connor snickers.

Travis shakes his head with mock sadness, but his grass-green eyes glitter. "Guess I'll just have to start from the beginning-" The older of the Stoll brothers is cut off by a cacophony of groans.

"I think the fuck not. Nobody cares, Travis." Octavian hisses from his seat at the front of the room. The scrawny boy whips around in his seat and the sight of his pale blond hair and even paler skin (topped by his aura that seems to scream _scarecrow_ _!_ ) causes chills to crawl up Percy's spine.

"Fuck off, Augur. Nobody was even talking to you." Is the green-eyed boy's bitter response.

Beck, who is seated in front of Percy, steps in, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Let's save the story for another time, okay?" He says kindly enough, but his face leaves little room for disagreement.

Travis' eyes sweep across the expressions of his friends for a few moments, before realizing that everyone else is in agreement. He scowls and flips up his middle finger, waving it around at his friends (and eliciting a few more chuckles out of Percy and Frank), before he turns around in his seat. His arms fold over his chest and he begins grumbling about what " _shitty losers"_ his friends are.

Percy stretches in his seat, and a few stray water droplets fall from his still-damp hair. He lets loose yet another yawn and the muscles that form his back spasm with soreness.

 _Gotta love swim_ , he thinks sarcastically to himself.

"You know, that's the eighth time I've seen you yawn in the past 20 minutes," Frank tells him matter-of-factly. His jaw sets in a hard line as he tries his hardest to refrain from laughing. Percy knows he's trying not to laugh because the East Asian boy bites his lip and his stale expression is quivering (just like it was when Grover accidentally farted while giving a presentation about the dangers of genetically modified bananas in health class the year before).

Percy frowns. "Is it a crime for a guy to yawn now?" His eyebrow cocks.

Frank swallows and his lip twitches. He bites down on it- hard. "No, of course not. But you legit look like you went to bed an hour ago."

Percy's stomach grumbles at the truthfulness of the statement and he shakes his head, feigning incredulity. He succeeds. "Yeah, whatever, Zhang." The student takes one last gulp of his Monster (his second one of the day) before tossing the empty can into the trash. "Swim practice just kicked my ass today- that's all." He adds on a shrug towards the end for good measure.

The subject is changed as Connor speaks up from Frank's left. "Anyone else ready for that Anatomy test coming up?" He teases, his eyebrows waggling. His baby blue eyes brighten a little.

Percy is suddenly reminded of the email that still sits in his inbox. He flinches briefly before swallowing, hoping dearly that nobody notices.

Travis takes this as an opportunity to rejoin the conversation. " _Nobody_ is ready for it." He complains, his bitterness is long forgotten it seems. He shakes his head before continuing. "What we _need_ is a new teacher, because Mr. Bryers can't teach for _shit_."

"Don't be so damn rude, Travis." Beck scolds, a frown pulling at his lips. "Teachers already get enough shit. Cut the man some slack."

Travis rolls his eyes but he shuts up, which tells Percy that he agrees. He can see it in the boy's lightly toned eyes.

Suddenly the morning bell rings and Percy's stomach feels as if it's going to drop out of his ass. Dread expands in his chest because his first period is a free period. And he knows that his meeting with Coach Triton and Dean Winchester is _not_ going to be a pleasant one.

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **"** You wanted to see me?" He speaks gently as he closes the door to Dean Winchester's office. Percy swallows as he notices Coach Hedge, the athletic director (or head of the athletic program, for a simpler term) of St. Goodeworth's leaning against the back wall. He's a stout man of 5 feet nothing, with a mass of curly brown hair atop his head and small beady eyes.

Coach Triton, on the other hand, is seated in front of Dean Winchester's desk with a clipboard in his lap. His olive skin looks pale under the fluorescent lights and his dark hair reminds Percy of silk. Although the elder has eyes the shade of cerulean blue and has skin several tones lighter than the student, Percy and his coach are often mistaken for brothers.

Dean Winchester is typing away at his desk, his salt and pepper hair (with a beard to match) is gelled down and slicked back as it usual. His kindly brown eyes turn to Percy as soon as the student walks into the room.

"Ah, Percy. You're here." He greets. He gestures towards the empty seat beside Coach Triton. "Have a seat, son."

Percy lifts a hand awkwardly in greeting and sets his lips into a hard line. "Um, hi." He breathes out before sinking into the seat beside his coach. He taps his foot absentmindedly, his heart slamming against his ribs again and again as he struggles to reign in the anxiousness that is swelling in his chest. He swallows.

Coach Hedge turns off his phone just as Dean Winchester clears his throat. The latter then proceeds to fold his hands over the top of his desk and smile a bit warmer towards Percy.

The black-haired boy takes note that the Dean's smile is failing too.

"Percy, we all know why you're here." The dean of students begins, his tone of voice is somber.

He nods, his cheeks warming.

Dean Winchester slides over a sheet of paper towards Percy. Percy takes it into his hands and surveys it quickly, his heart slowly sinking into his stomach as he reads along.

He sees the steady decline of his grades in Anatomy as the weeks progress, and his cheeks heat up some more.

Percy places the sheet of paper back on the desk while he rubs the back of his neck. The room is silent. He clears his throat and begins, "I honestly don't know why I'm lacking. Believe me- I'm trying as hard as I can, and I-"

"Look, kid, we _know_ that you're doing your best." Coach Hedge interrupts gruffly. His expression is as welcoming as a slab of concrete but his eyes are kind enough. Percy swallows and leans back in his seat as the athletic director continues. Coach Hedge pushes off the wall and folds his arms over his chest. He shakes his head. "But sometimes, doing your best just isn't _enough._ "

Percy sighs. "So what am I supposed to do?"

Coach Triton speaks up, turning towards the athlete. His sea-blue eyes are flecked with gold and he smiles at Percy. It doesn't fail. "The guidance counselor suggested a tutor-" Percy moves to interject but his coach lifts a hand before going on. "I know all your situation regarding tutors, Percy. That's why I declined for you."

Percy nods, and he loosens up immediately- his guard lowering slightly.

Dean Winchester steps in. "And considering what a predicament your situation places us in, I only have two options to offer you, Mr. Jackson. And they both have the same result, more or less."

The student swallows thickly, his gut telling him that he will certainly dislike both of them, and nods. "What are they?" He asks weakly.

Dean Winchester lifts a hand to indicate the first option. "On the one hand, we suggest you retake the class over the summer. You will graduate late, but you'll still graduate."

Percy's face blanches. He already knows he can't afford to miss graduation and retake a class that will surely create a dent in his mother's savings (that is rapidly dwindling thanks to the hospital). His throat is dry and he nods weakly. "And the other one?"

The man he is speaking to is grim. "And the other option is that you continue on in the class during this school year. But at the rate you're going, your GPA will be too low and you'll be placed on academic probation."

Percy is again filled with dread. "Which means I'll be-"

Coach Triton cuts him off with a nod. "-Kicked off the swim team."

"And lose my scholarship." Percy echoes, tears threatening to sting his eyes. His gaze falls to the floor as the dread hardens to a cement lump in his gut.

"Which in turn makes you illegible to graduate. Unless you somehow find a way to pay for your tuition." Dean Winchester finishes off. Percy barely hears him, but after a few moments of stunned silence, it registers and something clicks.

He flicks his gaze towards the dean of students, his eyes are awash with pre-shed tears. "But graduation is only a few months away-" Percy begins. He quickly falters, his words dying on his tongue.

 _"Best case scenario- she gets to see you graduate. I'm sorry, Percy."_ The voice of his mother's doctor taunts him.

 _Just a few more months._ His mind whispers to him again. Percy swallows and shuts his eyes for a few seconds, his head is pounding with an incoming headache.

"Percy?" Coach Triton's voice pulls him back to reality.

Percy opens his eyes and looks up. The other three men are staring at him with concern etched all over their faces. He weakly stretches a smile and nods stiffly. "Sorry." He clears his throat before turning back to Dean Winchester. He forces himself to say it. "Graduation is only a few months away. Isn't there anything I can do? _Anything_?" He pleads.

Dean Winchester shakes his head. "As of now, there isn't anything else. Percy, I'm sorry."

The swimmer nods and swallows thickly, trying to get past the lump that is forming in his throat. A lone tear slides down his cheeks and he hastily wipes it away. "Can I go back to class?"

Dean Winchester nods. "I'm sorry, Percy. I really am."

Percy doesn't hear him.

He's already out the door, and somewhere at the back of his mind- Percy knows that his smiles are going to be failing for a long, long time.

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Lunch.**

The rubber soles of Percy's shoes squeak against the linoleum floor tiles as he moves forward stoically in the lunch line. His mind is in other places. He doesn't notice the tapping on his shoulder until it becomes violent- digging in between the blades.

He looks over his shoulder with a vengeance, prepared to scold the tapper for nearly drawing blood. But he soon falters at the sight of the impish boy he had be looking for all over.

Leo grins madly, his dark eyes are glinting. "I hear you were looking for me, Aquaman?"

Percy resists the urge to roll his eyes at the nickname and moves forwards again, placing his tray on the rack so the lunch lady will have easy access to give him (admittedly _disgusting_ ) food. "Where were you, Leo?"

The sophomore moves in beside him and mirrors his actions. He shrugs, but his grin widens. "A little bit a' here, a little bit a' there. Y'know- _places_."

"I'm serious, Valdez." Percy continues. The lunch lady dumps a spoonful of what looks like crunchy pasta onto his tray. Percy almost gags, but somehow he manages to keep the smile on his face.

Leo doesn't. He grimaces and lets loose a disgruntled sound from the back of his throat, eliciting a sharp glare from the lunch lady. Percy snickers under his breath.

They move forward in the line and Leo turns to him, and an eyebrow arches before he gives way to an exaggerated eye roll. "Don't pretend that you care where I actually was." When Percy's mouth drops open in protest, the fifteen-year-old continues. "You just want the 411 on that stupid car of yours."

Percy frowns immediately. "Blackjack isn't stupid." He pauses, grabbing a blue Powerade from the cooler that sits at the end of the line. "And so what? I love him. He's my best friend. He _cares._ "

Leo snatches the last red Gatorade and answers Percy with a snort. "You're insane. And anyway," he continues with a more serious tone. "It's the same as always- new engine, dude." The pair begin to walk towards their tables.

Percy groans. "Can't you just do me a _solid_ and just-"

Leo cuts him off with a low whistle. "We been ova' this already, man. No can do. M'dad would _kill_ me if he found out I'm giving handouts. Sorry." His shrug isn't apologetic in the slightest. "And besides-"

Leo doesn't finish his sentence as he's violently shouldered by a passing junior whom Percy doesn't recognize.

The younger boy drops his Gatorade and the red drink begins its quick escape as it rolls off in the other direction. He groans and begins to chase after it- until it is stopped by a foot clad in black flats.

Percy vaguely recognizes her. She has shoulder-length cinnamon-colored hair that curls and skin the same tone as untouched coffee beans. Her eyes seem to be made of molten fourteen-carat gold. Her smile is as white and dazzling as the fluorescent lights that shine brutally overhead.

The girl bends down to pick up the runaway Gatorade and hands it to Leo with a smile. "Here, Leo, you dropped this."

The aforementioned boy takes it gingerly. Percy notices there's a slight stammer to his usually confident words. "Th-thanks, Hazel." He nods. Leo grips the bottle tightly. "I won't be letting this get away from'me again anytime... anytime soon." He swallows and his knuckles turn white.

Percy smirks.

The girl, Hazel, laughs lightly. "That's good to hear. I'll see you in Algebra II, okay?"

"Mhmm'kay." He slurs in response.

She waggles her fingers and chuckles again. " _Bye_ , Leo."

"Bye, H-Hazel."

The girl walks off, and the pair watch her leave.

Once she is out of earshot, Percy immediately punches his younger friend in the arm. "You _so_ like her." He teases with glee.

Leo scowls at him as he tucks his Gatorade under his arm so that he can use his free hand to rub the spot that Percy had punched. He shakes his head without conviction. "Don't be idiotic, Jackson."

Percy rolls his eyes. "You stuttered, Leo. You never stutter."

"Your point?"

Percy gives him a pointed stare and after a few moments, Leo sighs dramatically. "Okay, _so I like Hazel Levesque- so_ _what_?" He nearly growls.

The older student leans back with a smile on his face. "Then ask her out already." He advises, fully aware that he is nowhere near the position to be giving anyone relationship advice.

But that holds no relevance to Percy, who doesn't care in the slightest.

Leo rolls his eyes and stares at the senior as if he had just asked if fish can breathe underwater. "Hell to the damn _no_." He mutters. "And besides," He continues with a grumble. "I'm 95% sure she already has a crush on that football player friend of yours."

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific because most of my friends play-"

" _That_ one." Leo cuts him off and juts his chin in the direction of Percy's lunch table. Specifically, towards a muscular East Asian boy who's seated at the end of the table, laughing at who knows what.

"Frank? You think she likes _Frank_?" Percy echoes in disbelief, eyeing his friend with a crew cut. He turns back to Leo with both eyebrows raised.

Leo sighs. "I'm nearly positive." A pause. "Anyways, I'm gonna go eat now. I'll see y'later, 'kay?" He mumbles.

Percy nods. "Yeah, I'll see you later." The black-haired boy watches as Leo lopes off with a tint of sadness. "He thinks she likes _Frank_ ," He mutters to himself as he walks towards where his friends (and others) are seated. " _Frank_."

Percy slides into his regular seat between Piper and Grover. Before his butt can rest against the plastic, he is jostled by Grover who is gleefully scarfing down cheese enchiladas. His crutches lie forgotten halfway underneath the table and his seat.

"Silena, remind me to thank your mom for making these for me." Grover cries in between swallows. His eyes are wild.

Their black haired friend smiles graciously in response.

"Percy, what were you doing talking to _Leo_?" Calypso asks, her almond-shaped eyes narrow in suspicion.

Percy pushes his pasta around his plate with his fork before answering with a shrug. "He's my friend, Calypso." His answer is vague enough, but it leaves little room for argument.

She makes a sound at the back of her throat before turning back to Rachel. Percy rolls his eyes and tunes into the numerous conversations that are taking place around him.

Beck and Jason are lightly debating basketball plays, while Silena and Piper whisper to each other about a girl who's name Percy doesn't recognize. Drew and her cronies are exchanging gossip and generally terrorizing the students who are sitting at nearby tables.

Juniper and Rachel are in the middle of planning a rally to raise awareness for the endangerment of the whooping crane (Percy finds it hard to believe that such an animal exists), with the occasional input from Grover.

Frank, Grover (whenever his mouth isn't stuffed with enchiladas), and the Stolls are heavily arguing the pros and cons of vegan deodorant.

Again.

Percy sighs as he sips his Powerade, his headache doubling.

He closes his eyes and swallows, and again his mind taunts him, fear slightly webbing his emotions as his heart races.

 _Just a few more months, Percy. Just a few more months._

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading chapter 2! And thanks to all who left reviews on chapter 1!**

 **Also, you should really give this song of the chapter a listen. It gives me chills.**

 **Thanks again!**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


	3. her: nothing left to say

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Nothing Left to Say by Imagine Dragons**

 _Who_ _knows what's right?_ _The lines keep getting thinner. My age has never made me wise."_

 **Chapter III**

 **Annabeth's POV**

The awkwardness is almost as pressing as the silence is deafening.

The only sounds that come to Annabeth's ears are the occasional sips of water (or in Helen's case: chardonnay) and the clinking of dining utensils against plates. She again pushes her mashed potatoes towards the corner of her own plate before flicking her gaze towards her older brother.

Malcolm stares down at the cherry oak table, his cheeks are slightly pinked and his mouth is open. His light-haired eyebrows are furrowed and arched and they resemble the Lorax.

 _He's annoyed_ , Annabeth realizes. Her stomach rumbles at the thought of it, and suddenly all she wants to do is just drag him outdoors to the garden and grill him with questions about life at the firm and just _escape._

 _Escape. She needs to escape._

Annabeth resists the urge to clear her throat and excuse herself from the table. Although all she wants is to have some alone time with her elder sibling, Malcolm is also the only person keeping her here at dinner. If he wanted to be excused, he would have asked for so already. She forces herself to take another bite of steak. Her stomach grumbles in protest and Annabeth smiles weakly in response to the confused glance that Bobby throws at her.

Her father clears his throat from the head of the dining table, and all attention is turned to him. Frederick's eyes are bloodshot and slightly glassy as he sips some more water. After swallowing dramatically, the man turns to Malcolm. "So, Malcolm," he begins, cocking his head a little to the side.

Anxiousness spreads in Annabeth's chest as she grips her glass of water. Her gaze is flitting between her father and her brother and the tension in the air is soon palpable.

"Mr. Chase," Malcolm nods, sipping his water. His gaze turns icy and from where she is sitting, the stormy grey eyes of Annabeth's older brother are the blue that arches overhead in the sky by day.

Frederick sets down his fork and dabs the corners of his mouth with the embroidered napkin that sits on his lap. The gesture is so pretentious and ill-fitting against the sight of his bloodshot eyes and loosened tie and scruffy stubble that Annabeth almost snorts out loud.

Instead, she settles for taking a long sip of water and squeezing it down her throat. Her stomach rumbles and she is nauseous. Her mind screams at her to escape before the argument begins, but the blonde is rooted to her seat.

Instead, she settles for focusing on the scent that has permeated the air. Helen must have lighted a few almond and vanilla candles during her drunken-hazed day.

"What is it that you do, again?" Her father asks. The words are polite enough, but Annabeth knows that he's trying to get under Malcolm's skin. Frederick knows all about her older brother's past, and he's trying to take advantage of that.

The high school student pushes her steak across her plate. Her gaze flickers up to that of her older brother's for a split second before fixating itself back to the china cabinet that is pressed against the blood-red paint of the walls.

Malcolm's eye twitches briefly as he sets his glass down and begins sawing away at his steak. "I believe we've been over this, Mr. Chase." His voice is surprisingly calm as he places a piece of meat in his mouth. He arches an eyebrow at Frederick.

" _Indulge me_." The forty-five-year-old man taunts, swirling his glass of water as if it is filled with liquor.

Malcolm stops eating and folds his hands in his lap. Annabeth knows from the gesture that he's reigning in his anger. Her cheeks heat and she forks down another bite of mashed potatoes.

"I'm currently double majoring in civil engineering and architecture at Columbia University up in New York," is his cool response. Another sip of water.

Although she doesn't look at him, Annabeth can hear the surprise that seeps into her father's words. She envisions raised eyebrows and a skeptical smirk as he answers. "Columbia University in... _New York._ " He fakes a whistle. "Are you... completing an _internship_ up there, by any chance?"

Annabeth's stomach rumbles. She knows exactly what Frederick is doing, but she has no idea _why_.

Helen, clearly aware of where the conversation is headed (despite the fact that she is near drunk _again_ ) tells the twins to go upstairs and get ready for bed. The high school student tries her hardest to keep from envying the ten-year-olds as they exit the dining room and head off to play video games.

Malcolm's voice is smug, and Annabeth knows that he's aware of what Frederick is attempting to do as well. "Actually yes, I am completing an internship in New York."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, sir. Every Monday, Thursday, and Friday, I intern at Minerva and Associates, Architects in DPC. Maybe you've heard of it? It's a rather large and _successful_ firm." Malcolm taunts right back, his tone is smug.

Annabeth forces herself to stare at her brother. He's happily wearing a shit-eating grin and somewhere in the depths of her gut, the younger of the pair of siblings knows that all hell is _very_ close to breaking loose. She attempts to ready herself.

Helen makes a sound at the back of her throat but says nothing in particular.

Frederick flinches, most likely not expecting Malcolm to answer in such a blunt manner.

 _Of course he's heard of it._

"I- I wasn't aware that you would be working for-"

" _My mother._ " Malcolm cuts him off gruffly. All humor has dropped from his face as he slams his fork into his mashed potatoes.

 _Escape. She needs to escape._

Annabeth nearly breaks down right there, but she forces herself to reign in the anxiety that is slowly heating in her blood. Her heart is fire, the brewing nausea in her stomach is the pit, and her blood the gasoline that fuels it. She swallows thickly and pushes her plate away from her.

Malcolm continues. "Is there any specific _reason_ why you assumed that my own _mother_ would turn me away?" He cocks his head to the side and narrows his iron eyes at his former stepfather.

Annabeth, in a flare of pain and humiliation, doesn't fail to notice that Frederick briefly glances at her. She grips her glass of water and watches as Helen excuses herself from the table, snatching the entire bottle of chardonnay and exiting towards the living room.

Frederick turns back to Malcolm. His tone is cutting when he answers. "Maybe, just _maybe_ it has something to do with your criminal record, yes?" Frederick guesses. His British accent begins to rear its head as it always does when he becomes angry.

Malcolm narrows his eyes. "Are you saying that you have an _inkling_ of an idea of what went down that night?"

Annabeth leans back and stares at the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling above. Her mind is throbbing with a headache and her throat is dry. She feels the tears slowly fighting their way towards her lashes, and she doesn't know if she can hold them back. She flutters her eyes closed, sucking a sharp breath through her lips and breathing out through her nostrils.

Her father slams a fist down on the table. She can feel the vibrations of the impact reverberating through the fingers that clutch the armrest of the chair in which she is sitting. " _I was the one who picked you up from the damn police station!_ " He roars.

Malcolm stands up abruptly, his chair groaning as it rapidly squeaks against the wooden floors and falls backward. The blonde nineteen-year-old leans over the dining table, and Annabeth envisions the menacing glare that has no doubt overtaken his expression. "No, you _drove_ to the police station." He growls. " _Annabeth_ was the one who picked me up. Don't twist the story for your own benefit, _Frederick_."

Annabeth shrinks farther back in her seat, nausea churning in her stomach as her father retaliates in a fit of anger. He stands so quickly that he knocks over his glass of water. It shatters against the hardwood floors and she flinches.

The two men before her glare at each other in contempt and fury and the blonde-haired girl can only count the seconds before the room descends into chaos. She shrinks even more and hugs her knees to her chest, trying to blink back the tears. Her heart is beginning to race and her cheeks are heating.

 _Escape. She needs to escape._

Fredericks breaks the suffocating silence with a roar. " _Nobody is twisting the damn story, Malcolm!_ Quit playing the victim."

Malcolm stills at the last word and leans back. " _Playing the vic_ -" He removes his hands from the table and places them behind his back. His gaze is menacing, and in a cool voice, he answers. "My mother was right about you." His tone is calm and collected enough, but his words are icy and both Frederick and Annabeth wince.

"Don't speak- _don't speak_ of Athena." Frederick is quiet as he stares down at the table in front of him, his wiry frame shakes slightly.

Annabeth wonders to herself as to why she is still forcing herself to witness the disaster that is unfolding before her.

 _Because you care,_ she quickly finds an answer.

Malcolm's eye twitches, and again his irises are tinted the same shade of the sky. "You don't want me to speak... to speak about my _mother_?" He pauses, and in that brief moment his face twists in anger. Before anyone can react, the nineteen-year-old grabs a knife from the table and flings it at Frederick. His cheeks are firetruck red and Annabeth quickly takes note of the numerous, thick veins that have come into view on his neck. He screams. " _She was your wife, you **coward**!_"

Annabeth hears a hoarse outcry of panic, and after a few moments, it registers that it came from _her._ Her throat is on fire as she surges forward, but the damage is already done.

Frederick stumbles back, shocked, as the knife grazes his ear and hacks off a nick as it goes. His expression goes blanch and his eyes are glass as he numbly reaches upward. With a wince, he feels the blood that now drips from his earlobe and takes his fingers away to assess the damage.

Annabeth's chest tightens as her stomach becomes lead. She watches her father flick his gaze towards her older brother, and she has never seen an expression filled with so much _hate._ Frederick surges forward, his arm outstretched.

The dining room explodes with angered roars.

All hell breaks loose.

And Annabeth finally, _finally_ escapes.

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

She grips the steering wheel tighter as if the strength with which she clutches it will have any effect on the anxiety that is _still_ swelling in her chest. Tears line her cheekbones and eyelashes and Annabeth sniffs.

The dark sky that arches overhead twinkles with stars- and with its hazy curtain of warmth and inky gray clouds- it's nearly dream-like. She chuckles bitterly and wipes away her tears for the umpteenth time.

Annabeth had fled the house.

She had grabbed her father's keys and her shoes and she _fled_.

She doesn't know where she is driving, and the blonde-haired student doesn't care. She only wants to get as far away from her house as possible so that she can break down somewhere in peace.

Annabeth slowly pulls into the right lane of the road, deciding to make a turn a few stoplights ahead. She swallows and drums her fingers against the steering wheel, hazardous thoughts scattering across the forefront of her mind. A few sudden raindrops hit the windshield and she gazes at the sky, flabbergasted.

She pulls to a slow stop on the right shoulder of the road, sucking in deep breaths as she goes.

Annabeth feels a vibration on her thigh and she frowns quizzically. The blonde pulls out her phone and stares down at the screen, hesitant of the idea of picking up.

Her guilt gets the better of her.

"Hello," She mutters into the line, her mood dampens faster than the outside world around her.

 _"Where the bloody hell are you?_ " Malcolm seethes.

Annabeth takes the key out of the ignition before answering. She places the call on speaker and rests the phone against the dashboard. Pulling her knees up to her chest, the younger of the two siblings stares at the key in front of her. Annabeth chews on her bottom lip as her heart races with anxiety and slight panic.

" _Annabeth._ "

"I'm out and about." She answers vaguely, the words are halfway under her breath.

The pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the roof of the car before sliding down the sides does little to calm her. She thumbs the edge of the car key, inspecting its ridges and dips and jagged planes. Anything to distract her will do.

"Come home, Annabeth." Malcolm sounds a bit calmer, but his words are clipped and curt and Annabeth knows that her older brother is cross at her. As if he has any right to be cross at anyone.

"When did you and Dad finish up your fight?" is her calm response.

Her older brother pauses before answering. "We-we didn't even- it wasn't that _bad_ -"

Annabeth cuts him off, her voice shaking. "Malcolm, his hands were around your _throat_. You threw a _knife_ at him. _It wasn't that bad_?" She echoes, forcing the words past the lump in her throat.

"I'm sorry, Buttercup. _We're_ sorry." He breathes. He almost sounds apologetic.

Annabeth leans against the seat, staring up at the ceiling. Tears sting her sinuses.

Malcolm goes on. "Once we realized that you left the house- I- we-" He can't continue that sentence so he begins another one. "Just, _please_ come home, Annabeth."

The younger of the pair of siblings doesn't fail to notice his use of her real name. "I will, Malcolm. Don't worry." She begins. Her words falter at the sound of his releasing a sigh of relief. She continues. "But not right now. I needed to get out."

"Annabeth-"

"It's barely 9 o clock, Malcolm. I'll be fine. I just..." She sits up in her seat and trails off, swallowing thickly before pressing on. "I just needed some _air_."

The line is silent for one, two, three, four, five seconds.

A pause.

Malcolm breathes out again, clearly resigned from the conversation. "Yeah, yeah, I get it." He's quiet this time. "Just- just stay safe out there, okay?"

Annabeth nods although she's fully aware he cannot see her. "I will. I'll see you later, Mack."

"See you later, Buttercup-"

His voice is cut off as her phone dies.

 _Oh well_ , she thinks to herself. _At least I'll have some peace and quiet._

Annabeth takes in a deep breath and reinserts the key into the ignition. She breathes out slowly through her slightly parted lips, again leaning back into the headrest and staring at the fabric ceiling of the Jeep. She swallows yet _again_ , a few tears threatening to slip from her eyes as the sounds of shattering glass and screams fills her thoughts to the brim.

Her breaking point.

She can feel the blood rush to her cheeks just as the rain pours heavier outside. Annabeth closes her eyes and turns on the radio.

The signal is horrible- static breaks through every other lyric and permanently holds a place in the background, and the host somehow believes that it's ethical to interject comments and hype words every other line as if he's some sort of low-grade deejay- but Annabeth finds comfort in it nonetheless.

Her stomach rumbles and behind her eyelids, she tries to envision another life. A happier one.

One where her father isn't a lost man infatuated with his past or her mother isn't a soulless workaholic with unbelievably high standards.

One where her stepmother isn't a clueless drunkard with bitterness coursing through her veins and her younger brothers aren't being poisoned by the day because of this broken _wretched_ family.

One where her older brother doesn't treat her like cracked glass and she isn't the weapon of the Chase-Minerva family. The permanent guilt trip.

Or just... one that is different than the one that she lives.

Annabeth smiles softly as she mutes the radio and turns off the car, slipping the key out of the ignition and dropping it into her lap. The thought of living such a life fills her with such hope, that when harsh reality comes crashing down on her- pressing against her lungs and chest with more force than _gravity_ \- she is nearly crushed.

She opens her eyes and exhales softly through her lips. Her headache is slowly subsiding, and Annabeth decides to make do with her time by trailing the designs on the leather seats. Her gaze does not leave the ceiling.

And the blonde cries, because she feels trapped in her own life and she knows no way of escape.

Annabeth knows exactly how long she stays in the position, knees hugged to her chest and arms slack and cheeks slick with tears and ugly sobs. Twenty-three minutes and eighteen seconds.

She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. Then, after thoroughly pitying herself, she wipes away stray tears and inserts the key into the ignition.

The car does not start.

Panic strikes her heartstrings as Annabeth takes the key out, re-inserts it, twists, and expects the engine to roar to life.

No such thing happens.

The Jeep stays silent and Annabeth curses herself for taking her father's car from '06 instead of the latest Range Rover that sits in their garage, practically untouched.

Panic steadily climbs up her throat as she realizes that her phone is dead. No one to call.

 _Check under the hood_.

A bit miffed, the high school student warily steps out of the car and into the darkness. Heavy precipitation immediately comes into contact with her body as she slams the door closed and dashes towards the front of the car.

The sky had deepened into an iron-gray and Annabeth screams when lighting flashes- thunder shaking the ground. She swallows and forces down the bile that churns in her stomach along with anxiety and she lifts the hood.

The only light that illuminates the darkness is the spaciously placed street lights that line the road, but still, it is too dark for her to see anything. She wants to cry again.

 _Why me?_ She wonders to whatever higher being above.

Annabeth places a hand to her chest and takes in another deep breath. She begins to think rationally, deciding that her emotions have run rampant enough for the day. Water whips at her cheeks and every gust of wind that roughly blows past her cuts straight to the bone, but all she can do is _think_.

A thought scrambles across the forefront of her mind and she is dashing into the car to test out her theory. She inserts the key into the ignition once more and turns the car on, curious if the battery still works.

The headlights illuminate and Annabeth grins. Exiting the car, she leans against the open hood that radiates warmth and prays that someone will find her and offer her a helping hand.

* * *

It takes one hour, eighteen minutes, and forty-six seconds for help to arrive.

Annabeth is soaked to the bone. Her hair is plastered to her head, neck, shoulders, and back. Her sweatshirt is waterlogged and her leggings have long since been ruined. She is almost positive that a leaf is somewhere in her shoe. She hugs her arms to her chest, absentmindedly rubbing the outsides of her biceps in order to generate the smallest amounts of heat.

That is when ahead of her, a car turns onto the street. Annabeth squints and waves, hoping to get the driver's attention.

She does.

The car pulls over on the other side of the road, and a tall man steps out. Annabeth clenches her fists at her sides and tries to calm the rumbling that churns in her stomach. She swallows.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He yells out as he jogs over to her.

"My-my car won't start." She calls right back. The young man stops beside her, and Annabeth's eyes widen. "Jason Grace? Is that... is that you?"

In the faint light that comes from the front of her car, she sees the blond grin. "In the flesh. Everything alright over here?"

Annabeth shivers and shakes her head. "My car won't start and my phone is dead."

Jason's glasses have fogged up. He frowns, the crescent scar on his lip curling downwards. Frowns don't look good on him, she notices. "You can use mine. Anyone, in general, you want to call?" He walks towards to opened hood of the car and begins rustling around.

Annabeth notices that he's wearing a pair of dress slacks, a white collared shirt, and a dark blue necktie. "Are you sure you don't have anywhere more important to be?" She sidles up next to him and chews on her lip, a bit afraid of the answer he's going to give her.

Jason glances down at his clothes briefly before chuckling. He reaches into the nest of machinery and continues tinkering around. "Nah, it's okay. I was actually just coming from dinner."

"You dress up to have dinner?" She blurts out before she can stop herself.

He laughs, a genuine hearty laugh and Annabeth feels her cheeks warm. Jason steps back and looks down at her, a smile playing over his lips. "Piper finally met my parents tonight."

Annabeth nods. "Wow, that's- that's great." She offers up a weak smile and tries to ignore the rumbling in her stomach.

Jason smiles wider. "Yeah, it really is." Then, his ice-blue eyes light up and he turns to Annabeth once more. "My phone is in my car. Anyone you wanna call?" He asks again.

Annabeth chews on her lip. The thought of having to hear her brother's or father's voice before she's ready unnerves here. She shakes her head no.

The look that passes over his face tells her that he doesn't believe her for one second, but Jason doesn't push. She's grateful. "Alright. I'm gonna call the auto shop, I'm sure they're still open. You can get back in your car if you want to. I've got everything under control here." He grins and for a split second, the high school student feels as if she's staring a blond Clark Kent in the face.

She nods. "Th-thanks, Jason."

"Anytime." He murmurs as he submerges himself under the hood once more. He pauses for a few seconds and then pulls out from the hood to dash across the street to retrieve his phone from his car.

Annabeth slides back into the driver's seat and slams the door closed. She presses her forehead against the steering wheel, sucking in sharp breaths of air through her nostrils. Her stomach gurgles because she's _interacting_ with someone other than family or Piper and she has _no_ _idea_ what to do and she's so _nervous_ even though it's only Jason Grace the Golden Boy and she just-

 _Deep breath, Annabeth_. She forces herself to get a grip.

Annabeth swallows and leans back, exhaling slowly. After a few moments of attempting to calm herself, she glances through the rain whipped window. Jason is walking towards her car, a phone pressed against his ear. As he draws closer, she can begin to make out more and more of his words. The blond-haired boy stops in front of her hood.

"-Fish Breath. I'm serious." A pause, along with a laugh. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, cuzzo, I'm gonna be a little late- _no,_ Piper and I are _not_ \- You know what? That's none of your business." Another laugh. "Listen to me, asshat." A pause. Then he sobers up. "I'm really sorry to hear that. I'll be right there, don't worry. But a friend of Piper's is stuck out on the road and her phone is dead. I was gonna call the auto shop and make sure they get to her before I head on over." Another pause. Jason takes in a deep breath and sighs. "Yeah, thanks for understanding. I'm on my way. Tell her I said hi before she falls asleep. Yep. Okay. Bye, Fish Breath."

 _Fish Breath?_

Jason stops for a few seconds, and once his phone begins to ring Annabeth realizes he was dialing another number. "Hey there, Heffie- sorry, I won't call you that." A chuckle. "Listen, someone I know has gotten into some car trouble out on Fifth and Broadville. Do you think you could send Beck and a tow truck out here to-" The fellow student stops. Then, in a voice that is a bit deflated, he continues. "Oh, Beck is out with Lena." Another pause. "No, no, that's okay. It's just- is there _anyone_ else that you _trust_ that you can send? Anyone at all?" He pauses as the person on the other end of the line, _Heffie_ , talks. Annabeth can nearly hear the grin in Jason's voice. "Wait, really? Oh, gods! Thank you so much, sir! Have a nice night."

Annabeth is so caught up in reeling over the conversation that she had just heard that she doesn't notice Jason at the window. When he knocks, she jumps almost a mile. She shrieks.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He chuckles as she exits the car.

Annabeth is well aware of the fact that her face has taken the same shade as a firetruck. She chooses to ignore the fact. "It's- it's al-right." She forces herself to speak. She cranes her neck to look up at him and plaster a small smile on her face.

Jason nods and jabs his thumb behind him. "So I was just on the phone with the auto shop. They're sending a tow truck right now as we speak." He grins.

Annabeth presses her lips together and slightly nods, hoping to convey that she is grateful. "Thank you so much, Jason. You really didn't-"

The blond waves his hands around and pushes his fogged up glasses farther up his nose. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocks on the balls of his feet. "Don't mention it. Plus, Piper would kill me if she ever found out I just _left_ you out here." He shrugs with a laugh.

Annabeth nods again, a few droplets of water run down the bridge of her nose and drip onto her Cupid's bow. "Well, you can leave now-"

"Absolutely not. I'm not leaving until I see who they sent." His tone tells her he will not budge and his words speak volumes of his character. Annabeth's stomach rumbles.

"Oh- okay." She swallows.

Jason smiles slightly and gestures towards the Jeep. The blonde takes it as an invitation to go back in the car, which is a gesture that she appreciates greatly. "I have a few blankets in my car that Piper insists on keeping in there. I can get one... if you want." He offers.

Annabeth shakes her head. She's grateful that Jason is being so generous, but she's well aware that the rain would get to the blankets before he crossed half of the street.

Jason seems to be reading her thoughts. He grins. "I could just toss it to you." He jokes. "I am the head quarterback for a reason."

Annabeth chuckles before she can stop herself, and Jason grins wider. She shakes her head, a bit more at ease. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll just wait in the car."

Jason nods. "No problem." He checks the time on his phone. "The tow truck should be here in a few minutes. I'll wait by the hood."

Annabeth nods as well and enters the car. She watches through the water striped window as Jason heads towards the hood of the car and waits.

The pair of blonds don't have to wait very long. Seven minutes later, another car turns onto the street. Annabeth hurries out of the Jeep and stands with Jason to meet her savior.

The truck pulls to a stop, and in the darkness, Annabeth can barely make out the writing that is scrawled across the side-

 _Hephaestus Auto Repair: Locomotives and Lube._

The door opens on the other side and the driver scrambles out.

Annabeth doesn't know what she was expecting to walk out of the truck. To be honest, she doesn't have expectations at all.

What she _wasn't_ expecting to see, however, was a young and scrawny Latino boy in a grease-stained tank top, dirt-streaked dungarees, and worn army fatigue jacket. A wrench is in his hands and his eyes are a bit wild.

He runs over to her and Jason, and Annabeth notices that he's barely taller than her.

"You called?" He asks a bit hurriedly. Already, his mass of curly brown hair is plastered to his head.

Jason nods. Then, after a moment and a furrowing of eyebrows, an expression of recognition passes over his facial features. "Hey- you're _Leo_ , right? Leo Valdez? The kid who Calypso dated back in-"

The boy, Leo, nods curtly and interrupts. "That s'me." He mumbles. Then, turning to Annabeth, he gestures at the Jeep behind her. "This ya car?" he asks. Annabeth picks up on a slight accent in his words but she doesn't know where it's from. She nods.

"It won't start." She offers a weak explanation.

Leo nods. "Well, I'll have to take it back to the shop. Speaking of which-"

"Aren't you like, 15? Can you even legally drive by yourself?" Jason interrupts abruptly. Then, after realizing his bluntness, he blushes and scratches the back of his neck. "Sorry."

Leo shoots him a glare and Annabeth is suddenly under the impression that the younger boy does not have any positive feelings for the football player. "I was just getting to that." He turns back to Annabeth. "Technically, I wasn't supposed to even drive out here, but my Dad insisted. That being said- you're going to have to drive to your house and then I'll briefly break the law again and go back to the shop. If that s'okay?" His eyes are as dark as coffee beans and they shine in the darkness as he grins.

Annabeth nods, her stomach churning at the thought of being alone in a car with a stranger. "Mhm... okay." She murmurs.

Leo clasps his hands together, similarly to how the cheerleaders do it. "Perf." He grins wider. "Lemme just hook this baby up, and then we can be on our way!" The fifteen-year-old turns to Jason, his expression sobering up a bit. "I got it from here. Thanks for the call, Grace."

Jason presses his lips together and nods. "Anytime." Then, turning to Annabeth he smiles. "I'll see you around."

"Thank you," Annabeth whispers gratefully.

His smile stretches even wider, and the scar on his lip follows accordingly as it curls into a crescent. "Don't mention it..." He pauses.

"Annabeth. Annabeth Chase." She forces herself to say.

Jason nods. "Annabeth." He says her name as if he's trying it out. "Annabeth..." He murmurs to himself. Jason flickers his gaze back to the shorter blonde after a few moments before giving way to another nod. "Don't mention it, Annabeth. I'll see you at school." He waves a hand in goodbye.

Annabeth can't force herself to say anything this time. She settles for a nod instead.

Jason jogs back to his car on the other side of the road and Annabeth watches as he enters and drives off.

Then, she turns to Leo who is hard at work attaching the front bumper of her father's Jeep to the hook that dangles from the back of the tow truck. Through the open window, he notices Annabeth staring and he grins.

"Like what you see, Blondie?"

Annabeth closes her eyes and sucks in another breath of air through her nostrils.

 _This is going to be a long car ride._

* * *

 **A/N: And here is chapter 3! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing and _special_ thank you to Meistar for helping me with adding details!**

 **I hope you enjoyed :)**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


	4. his: bring me back to life

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Bring Me Back to Life by Charlie Bannister, Ht Bristol, Nine One One, and Vincent Steele**

 _"I feel my time is_ _running out. Who will be there when my life support is gone?_ _"_

 **Chapter IV**

 **Percy's POV**

"Go fish, sucker!"

Percy groans as he pulls yet _another_ card from the deck, the texture of each small sheet taunts him every time his fingertips brush their cursed surface. He shoots his mother a halfhearted glare as he slips the card in the rapidly growing stack in his hands. The woman grins cheekily in response, her smile lines deepening.

"You know," she begins, drawing his attention. Percy turns, eyebrows raised, and stares his mother in her ever-changing crystal blue eyes. The stack of cards within his palms carry the weight of lead.

"Hm?" He grunts.

Her grin widens. "For someone who is so skilled in the water as you are, you are _quite_ the horrible-"

Percy squeezes her big toe through the hospital blanket, a grin threatening to split his face in half. "You finish that sentence and I'm eating the rest of your crackers." He half-jokes while an eye roll is well underway.

Sally drops her jaw. " _Peanut_ , you wouldn't _dare_!" Her tone of voice is artificially shrill, and the hand that is pressing against her chest for dear life is overtly dramatic.

But even still, the black-haired boy tries his hardest to hide his weakness for the pet name away from his mother as he steels himself. Percy cocks an eyebrow, and for good measure, he leans over and steals a cracker. "Try me," he taunts through a mouthful of carbs. He then swallows and tosses her a grin cheeky enough to rival that of her own.

His mother merely cackles in response. "Just like your father." She murmurs mostly to herself. Her eyes of glass familiarly shine with an emotion that Percy cannot place, so he chooses to ignore it. He has never liked the way that he felt whenever his mother got like this.

He swallows. "Anyways, back to business." He wipes off his hands and picks up his stack of cards. "Do you have an..." An elongated pause for unneeded dramatic effect. "An... Ace of Diamonds?"

A rebellious smirk begins to grow over Sally's lips that Percy _instantaneously_ recognizes and he nearly flips a table. It's just so _unfair_. "You have _got to be_ -"

His brewing rant is interrupted by a knock at the door. Both of the Jacksons gazes flicker towards the nurse that is entering the room, and all conversation dies. She is fairly short and thin, with willowy dark hair pulled back in a bun and emerald green eyes. She grins and Percy moves away from the hospital bed in order to give her space, a grimace is rapidly pulling over his lips.

Sally quickly shoots him a Look that tells him to fix his expression immediately.

Percy stretches out a smile that would make the Cheshire cat envious and his mother sticks out her tongue at him.

"You're a kid." He mouths to her, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Instead, he chooses to fixate his gaze upon the flickering fluorescent lights that line the ceiling overhead. He passes the time by counting the seemingly dozens of dead insects that spot the casings.

 _Just a few more months, Peanut._ His subconscious tauntingly whispers across his mind. Percy's mood dampens instantaneously, a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. Tension gathers at the nape of his neck where the shoulders meet and he flutters his eyes closed as so to hide his growing discomfort. He tilts his head back as well, taking in deep breaths and counting from one to five and back.

"How are we feeling?" The nurse asks in a singsong voice.

Percy hears his mother yawn. "Tired, Lou Ellen. We're feeling tired."

He couldn't have stopped his snort if he wanted to. He doesn't even open his eyes before interjecting sarcastically. "That's not what you were saying while you were kicking my butt at Go Fish, but whatever, go off I g-"

Lou Ellen lets loose a cackle and the black-haired boy instantly leans forward, opening his eyes as a deep blush spreads across his sunkissed face. He swallows, scratching the back of his neck.

"So," The hopefulness that is lilted into Sally's words tugs at Percy's heartstrings. "Any news? At all?"

Lou Ellen grimaces as she turns to check the elder of the Jackson's vitals. She busies herself for a few moments as silence hangs in the room. Anxiety claws its way up Percy's chest, pressing heavily against his lungs as it goes.

 _One, two, three, four, five, four, three, two, one._ He reminds himself as he closes his eyes once more for a few brief seconds.

The young nurse spins around and faces the pair. "Everything's looking the same-" Then she pauses.

Percy immediately advances. Fear is prickling his skin and soon spreads to every nerve beneath. His heart uses his rib cage as a battering ram. "What is it?"

Lou Ellen makes a pained face, and the eighteen-year-old knows that this must be hard for her.

Sally sighs and places a hand on the nurse's arm. "I'm a big girl, Lou Ellen. You can tell me." Her words and facial expression are serene and kind as ever, but Percy knows from the glisten in his mother's eyes that she's terrified. He swallows again and shoves his hands into his pockets, clenching them into fists as he bunches up the fabric between his palms. He forces his gaze to the floor, staring at the creamy beige linoleum tiles with a vengeance. They shine under the fluorescent lights, glistening and nearly glowing, as if to give off the impression that the hospital is a well-kept place.

"I- I'll bring the doctor in. It's really not my place." Lou Ellen sobers up, walling herself behind a fortress of professionalism.

" _Bullshit_." Percy growls under his breath, anger rapidly taking residence in his blood. He glares at the tips of his beaten up Converses as heat slowly begins to climb up his spine, leaving chills in its wake.

"Percy..." His mother sighs.

The student shakes his head and takes in a deep breath before lighting his gaze on the nurse. Lou Ellen stares up at him nervously, chewing the inside of her cheek as he struggles to calm himself.

Percy shakes his head again and stares her right in the eye, reaching into the thick verdant depths, searching for an escape from his anger. "It's all bullshit and you _know it_ -"

Sally shoots him another Look and scolds. " _Percy_ ," She warns, her tone of voice leaving little room for argument.

He rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by the vibration of his phone. Percy stands and lightly dusts off imaginary lint from the knees of his joggers. He fishes the phone out from his pocket and briefly makes eye contact with Lou Ellen. "If you'll excuse me," he clears his throat, attempting to dismiss the palpable tension in the air.

Lou Ellen tries hard for a smile (and fails, Percy notices), and nods slightly. "You won't be missing much in here, Percy."

The high school student grunts in response and steps out of the hospital room.

He needs air, he realizes, as the tension seemingly releases its grip from the back of his neck and shoulders the moment he passes through the heavy door. Percy decides to walk a little ways down the hall before answering the phone.

He leans against a wall, leaving all of his weight in his right foot as he presses the elbow on the same side against the railing. " _Where the fuck are you,_ you deuce?" He immediately growls.

Jason laughs, loudly. "Ooh, did Fish Breath _miss_ me?"

Percy rolls his eyes for what feels like the eightieth time that day. "I'm not joking around, Jace." He pauses for a quick attempt to swallow the lump that has suddenly invaded his throat. "You said you would be here."

His blond cousin pauses for a moment before answering. "What's wrong, Perce..."

Percy shifts, pressing his back against the wall. A random doctor passes by and he halts conversation, lifting a hand in greeting and sending a small smile his way before turning his attention back to Jason. "Well... there's nothing new, I guess."

"Good _or_ bad?"

"Good _or_ bad." He confirms. The line goes quiet.

 _Just a few more months, Fish Breath!_ His subconscious screams loud enough for the high school student to flinch. He slowly slides down to the floor and hugs a knee to his chest, leaving the other leg outstretched.

Percy changes the subject, wanting to laugh. "You never answered my question, by the way."

Jason laughs. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, cuzzo, I'm gonna be a little late-"

The eighteen-year-old immediately sees an opportunity and takes it. "I see Piper's been keeping you busy-"

His cousin continues on without missing a beat- as if he's expecting for Percy to interject with a snide comment. " _No,_ Piper and I are _not_ \- You know what?" His voice begins to shake with laughter. "That's _none_ of our business. Listen to me asshat-"

Percy cuts him off again (it's one of his bad habits, cut him some slack). His smile is already dying. "No, _you_ listen. You promised that you'd be here and my mom's already asked for you twice. Hurry the fuck up, Grace."

Jason sobers up. "I'm really sorry to hear that. I'll be right there, don't worry. But a... _friend_... of Piper's is stuck out on the road and her phone is dead. I was gonna call the auto shop and make sure they get to her before I head on over."

"Oh, damn. Yeah, you should really take care of that. My mom would kill both of us if she figured out we left her out there." Percy agrees immediately, stretching out his other leg in order to get fully comfortable.

From the other end of the line, Jason takes in a deep breath and lets loose a sigh. He's tired, Percy realizes. "Yeah, thanks for understanding. I'm on my way."

"Bring food." Percy groans, his stomach rumbling. "I've already used up my weekly food court passes."

Jason ignores him. "Tell her I said hi before she falls asleep." His tone is pleading.

Although he recognizes it, Percy does little to be empathetic. "She's not falling asleep anytime soon. She's currently murdering me in Go Fish. You should come play." He deadpans.

Jason snorts. "Yep. Okay. _Bye, Fish Breath_."

The black-haired teenager coos. " _Bye, Supermannnnn."_ He nearly throws in a fake giggle, but his cousin hangs up before he gets the chance.

Percy removes the phone from his ear and stares at the screen that is now dark. His mind wanders for a few seconds before he sighs heavily and slips it into his pocket. The events of the day are finally beginning to catch up with him, and Percy knows that he still has much to do in regards to notifying his mother that he is at an unfortunate crossroads.

He presses his head against the wall, fluttering his eyes shut so that the lashes brush against his upper cheekbones and breathes slowly through his lips.

 _One, two, three, four, five, four, three, two, one._

After a few seconds, his eyes are opening as his mind races in tune with the clumsy beat of his heart. Each passing thump seemingly amplifies the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights overhead and Percy wants nothing more than to crawl into his mother's hospital room, curl up at the foot of her bed, and descend into slumber.

But the thought of facing Lou Ellen again- with her bright green eyes and enchantingly dark hair; with her pale skin and brazen features. She is sharp and chilled and kind and keen- and he knows that he is not ready to come face to face with her after his snapping.

Percy licks his lips and blinks again, debating if whether or not he should rise from his defeated position against the wall. He decides against it and instead begins to think up of ways on how to tell his mother of his current predicament without inciting disappointment or worry from said woman.

 _Escape, he needs escape._

Percy pinches the bridge of his nose, an incoming headache pressing against the tension point between his eyes. There are too many thoughts flying around his mind and not enough order. He is lost and on the verge of tears and he has no idea what to do.

The senior has no idea how long he is pressed against the wall. His back begins to ache and his legs need to be stretched, but he cannot move. He will not move. Despite his deep longing to be by his mother's side, Percy is frozen. He is numb.

Seconds stretch into minutes which then turns into what feels like a half-hour. Percy still does not know how he is going to break the news to his mother, and as shameful tears sting his sinuses, a noise draws him back to reality.

"Perseus Jackson? Is that you?" A raspy masculine voice echoes from somewhere above.

Percy plasters a smile onto his face, fully aware that it doesn't reach his eyes, and lifts his head. The harsh lights that line the ceiling overhead pierce his vision and he squints, having to spend a few moments to get accustomed to the brightness.

His vision settles and suddenly a tall man with curly blond hair and tanned skin blurs into focus. His blue eyes are twinkling.

His smile is far from failing.

Percy wonders if his smiles have ever failed.

"Hey, Will," he lifts a hand in greeting. "When did you get back from Sydney?"

The doctor laughs and slips a hand into one of the pockets of his pale blue scrubs. When he speaks, his Australian accent peeks through at the seams and whispers its hello to Percy. "Two nights ago, actually. Thanks for asking."

Percy nods, the weight in his chest lightening at the sound of Will's voice. Just like Jason, the man had the tendency to bring out the best in everyone- which was partly the reason why he was one of the best pediatricians in the city (despite his young age).

Must've been a blond thing.

"Jet lag still beating you up?" Percy has to fake a smirk still, however, gesturing to the tall thermos of coffee that Will is carrying in his other hand. His eyebrow lifts slightly at the sight of the doctor's knuckles turning white as they clench the container. His gaze shoots up to Wills immediately.

Nonetheless, Solace's expression is as bright as ever, and so Percy simply chalks up the mini ordeal as a hallucination. "Yeah, it's still kind of difficult to get back into the swing of things, but I'm hanging in there."

 _I'm hanging in there._

Percy's chest constricts at the phrase, pleadingly wishing that he were able to say the same.

Wishing he were able to _afford_ to say the same.

Will's voice once again saves him from his thoughts. "I gotta run, Percy, but it was great seeing you." The smile is evident in his tone of voice.

The black-haired student lifts his head while cocking it a bit to the side and studies Will's gaze. He notices that there's a slight twinge of pity within the sky blue depths and it is all he can do to keep from gritting his teeth.

Will lowers his voice a little and gives Percy a reassuring smile, as if to tell him that he is on his side.

 _As if to tell him that he knows everything._

Percy feels his expression darken at that thought.

"Tell Sally I said hello, okay?" Will's voice is soft and serene.

Percy despises it.

It is the result of the exact reason why he hasn't told anyone other than family of his mother's condition.

Because of the pity that came along with it.

 _Every time._

He stands briskly, his annoyance filling him with the motivation to push himself up off the floor. Percy leans against the wall and shoves a hand into his pocket, his fingers clenching around his phone as he attempts to control himself.

Will takes a step back, finally reading the high school student's expression, and much to Percy's amusement, his knuckles blanch even more.

"Yeah, I'll tell her, Will. It was good seeing you too." Percy responds flatly. He almost tries for a smile, but quickly decides that it isn't worth the effort.

The doctor in front of him nods grimly, realizing that he has overstayed his welcome. He removes his hand from his pocket and waggles a few fingers before loping off in the other direction.

Percy watches him go.

The irritation that had taken such a grasp on him just a few moments before begins to ebb as rapidly as it had spawned. In its place, envy takes hold as he analyzes the doctor's gait that exuded nonchalance.

 _The things that Percy would do to ensure his own gait would be carefree for the rest of his life._

 _That his smiles would never fail._

 _That he wouldn't have to rely on his cousin to be his source of happiness._

He shifts, pressing his forehead against the wall as the tears come flowing right back.

" _Fuck_." He croaks, his voice cracking as a drop of wetness slides down his cheek. His fist clenches at his side and he presses it against the wall as well, fighting the urge to scream. " _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ "

 _It isn't fair!_ He wants to shout. _She doesn't deserve this. No one does- but especially not her._

"Why didn't you pick me instead?" He wonders aloud, his voice is not able to rise above a breathy whisper. " _Why didn't you pick me instead?_ " He asks again, having not a single clue as to whom he's asking.

He swallows and turns, fluttering his eyes closed once again as the tears continually roll down his face. His head tilts upwards towards the harsh lights that shine down onto his sun-darkened skin and Percy attempts to calm himself.

 _Escape. He needs escape._

But from what?

 _From what?_

He frowns inwardly.

 _She's the one with only a few months left._

 _What could you possibly need escape from?_

He is suddenly disgusted with himself.

And disappointed.

"Are you seriously doing this to yourself, man?" He whispers, feeling the vibrations of his voice rumbling in his chest. " _God,_ Percy, what _happened_ to you?"

He pauses again. For a long time.

He doesn't keep track this time.

" _Fuck!_ " He hisses, his fist slams against the wall behind him.

 _Where's Jason? I need Jason._

 _I can't do this on my own._ _I could never do this on my own._

 _I'm not good enough._ _I was never good enough._

 _Maybe I should just-_

The sound of a door slamming causes Percy to break free from the toxic cage that is his own mind. His head jerks to the source, and immediately his gaze is slammed into Lou Ellen's, who is staring at him with minor concern.

"Percy, are you-" She begins to speak, but he cannot bear to hear that question again. Not today.

" _I'm fine_." He cuts her off. He doesn't need _her._ Percy inhales a sharp breath and exhales slowly before regarding Lou Ellen again. He notices that she's staring at his hand.

He cuts a glance down to it, just then realizing that it had begun to bleed.

He shoves it into his pocket, breaking her line of concentration and forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Can I go back in now?" His voice is quiet, submissive almost, because he knows what her response will be.

Lou Ellen seems as if she's fighting the urge to reprimand him, or in the least raise an eyebrow. "Nobody said you had to leave, Percy." She pauses briefly but continues on as if she had never stopped talking. "But yes, you can go in now."

Percy swallows and nods. "Thank you, Lou Ellen. And I'm really s-"

It's her turn to cut him off then. She lifts a hand, halting his words on their path through his lips, and sends him a kind smile. "I know, Percy. Just go inside, okay? You have a game of Go Fish to finish before she falls asleep."

The black-haired boy nods in appreciation, turning towards the door that led to his mother's hospital room. Lou Ellen does the same and walks past him, scanning her clipboard for information he has no idea of.

He sucks in a deep breath, fluttering his eyes closed for what feels like the umpteenth time that hour, and gently opens the door.

* * *

The room is unnaturally quiet as he steps in and closes the door behind him. Percy's walls immediately shatter as he detects mourning hanging in the air like a cloud clinging to the earth's surface in fog.

His gaze immediately lights onto his mother, who is turned away from him and staring blankly at the wall, all enjoyment drained from her face.

Percy's heart leaps through his chest as he rushes forward, recognizing her state in an instant. " _Mom!_ " He cries out, panic rising in his throat.

He reaches her bedside at lightning speed, kneeling on the floor and grabbing her hand.

 _Not again, not again, not again, not again, not again, not again, not again-_

He grips her fingers, the coldness of them contrasting heavily against the heat that flushes the surface of his own skin. A hand is trembling, but Percy does not know if it is his or hers. His stomach churns with an emotion indecipherable. He cradles his free hand under his mother's chin and forces her to look at him.

Sally's crystal blue eyes that were moments before alive with emotion and passion- are now pale and stagnant. Her gaze filters right through his embodiment, as if he simply isn't there. The fluorescent lights that shine overhead have never seemed so harsh.

Bile churns in his stomach.

 _Just a few more months, Peanut!_ His subconscious reminds him.

Percy feels wetness gaining form in his eyes as he desperately searches his mother's face, attempting to draw her back to reality.

The human mind truly is an ugly place, and he knows that better than anyone.

"Mom, what is it? I know you're in there. Don't do this to me- _please_."

 _Please._

Sally stares at him, clearly trapped. The whites of her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks are streaked with tears and her nose runs and Percy suddenly does not know if he can handle the news or not.

 _Escape. He needs escape._

 _Coward, coward, coward, coward-_

"Mom- please don't do this to me. Tell me what's wrong." He begs as the first tear escapes, rolling down his face with a vengeance as it carries with it every forgotten memory that he had tried so hard to suppress for years. " _Tell me what's wrong."_ His voice cracks.

Sally turns to him again, but this time, panic briefly flashes across her face and Percy knows that he has finally reached her. He gazes at the woman he loves so much in the eyes, and reaches into the pale blue depths, and grazing her soul as he gently coaxes his mother out of the mental cage she has trapped herself in due to the news she had just received.

Percy breathes out a sigh of relief as he feels his mother squeeze his hand back. He moves to hug her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his face into her thigh as the tears flow freely from his eyes.

" _Don't do that again- please_." He muffles into the blanket. " _You promised._ "

He hears the sounds of his mother sniffling as she weeps quietly, pulling him closer against her body. Percy feels her fingers running through the length of his hair as she apologizes more and more.

 _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry._

Percy pulls away to stare at her in the face. Her eyes are no longer stagnant, but instead awash with tears as the harsh lights overhead paint her face ghost pale. Sally wipes her nose and lets her gaze fall to the blanket in front of her.

"Hey, hey," He gently calls for her attention.

Her gaze does not move.

Still, he does not budge. " _Mom_." He whispers pleadingly, the question he asks is lilted into the tone of his voice.

Sally flinches.

The room is silent for a ten-second count before his mother finally inhales sharply and turns to stare him in the face. Newly shed tears are already making their way down her cheeks as she shakes her head. Her body language screams defeat and Percy suddenly has the urge to punch a wall.

 _It was so fucking unfair._

 _She doesn't deserve this._

 _She-_ doesn't - _deserve this._

"What did Lou Ellen say?" His voice is detached and sounds foreign, and he knows it is because he's afraid of the answer.

"She didn't want to tell me with you in the room. She... she was _afraid_ of how you were going to react." She dodges his question, staring at the muted images that flicker over the TV screen in the corner.

" _Momma._ "

Sally swallows, more tears welling up in her eyes.

Percy watches helplessly as the water droplets drip against the hospital blanket, dark circles appearing in the fabric. They herald the news that he is about to hear, and he doesn't know if he has the energy to steel himself.

If he _wants_ to steel himself.

The room is silent again for a five-second count before Sally shatters the hush.

"The cancer, Percy..." She swallows thickly again, unable to go on.

The black-haired student feels all color drain from his face as his heart sinks into his stomach at the sound of that phrase. The earth seems to spin beneath his feet and he has to grip the edge of the bed to remain stable.

"Did it-?" He begins the question, but cannot bring himself to ask it in its fullness.

 _Coward._

His mother's weak nod is enough to mentally knock him off his feet. She presses her lips together firmly and lifts her hand to wipe more tears. Soon enough, her body is shaking with sobs and Percy's heart breaks for the umpteenth time that day.

He rises and pulls his mother against his chest, his own tears dampening her hair as he hangs onto her form for dear life.

 _Just a few more months._

 _Escape. Escape. Escape._

 _You can only enjoy her_ weak _embrace for a few more months._

 ** _Escape._**

"How long do we have?" His voice cannot rise above the volume of a whisper as it cracks in numerous places. His body is trembling as his mind struggles to find the ability to cope with the news.

" _Months._ " Sally weeps. "I only have a few months left with my baby- I just- oh, _Percy_." She cuts herself off and grips him tighter. " _I love you so much._ "

Percy bites his lip to keep from crying out in anguish as he presses a kiss to the top of his mother's head. His voice trembles as he responds. "I love you too, Mom."

They remain in that position for what feels like hours to Percy- but it will never be enough.

He inhales her scent, imprinting it into his brain so that he will never forget.

So that he will never forget how she smells of medicine, but her true scent of lavender still peeks through at the seams, begging to be noticed.

 _Never forget_.

* * *

It's three in the morning when Percy awakes.

The hospital room is dark, and there isn't a single sound except for his mother's gentle breathing as she sleeps beside him.

Percy stiffly gets out of the bed and slips on his shoes, careful not to make a noise. He glances at Sally's sleeping form for a few moments before he leans over and presses a kiss against her cheek.

She stirs slightly.

The eighteen-year-old then exits the room with a deep breath passing through his lips. His mind seems to be screaming at him.

Screaming at him to panic.

Screaming at him to simply put an end to all of this _madness._

 _Screaming at him to escape._

But he chooses to ignore it.

He does not have the energy to deal with anything trivial.

He cannot be selfish.

Percy pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time.

3:18.

A text from Jason lights up the screen, the time stamp stating that he had sent it sometime around 11:30.

 ** _Sorry, something came up and I can't make it. Tell her I said hi. - Jace the Grace_**

Percy scoffs and shoves the phone back into his pocket, anger slightly rising in the pits of his stomach as he stalks down the hallway towards the elevators.

 _It's better this way,_ he tells himself, however. He knows that he needs to stop using Jason as his medicine.

As his source of happiness.

He knows that he has to live for two people now.

 _Jason not being here... it's better this way,_ he tells himself.

 _It's one less person to pity you. One less person to stare at you as if you're damaged goods._

 _One less person._

He presses the button to alert the elevator, and as he waits, the younger Jackson makes a vow.

Whether or not he will be able to keep it...

He enters the elevator.

...Is another story entirely. But he knows that he will try his damned hardest to keep it.

The value that he has for his mother's life hangs in the balance.

 _And as long as I live, I will make sure that it will tip in my fucking favor._

The elevator doors slide closed.

* * *

 **A/N: First of all I would like to apologize for disappearing for 5 months. I was supposed to update sometime around Thanksgiving, but things happened and I never got the chance.**

 **Also: I started my junior year of high school so the updates will be rather sparse. However: expect chapter 5 to be out before Easter!**

 **Thank you so much for reading chapter 4! And thanks to all who left reviews in my absence!**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


	5. her: lovely

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Lovely by Billie Eilish (feat. Khalid)**

 _"Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here, even if it takes all night or a hundred years."_

 **Chapter V**

 **Annabeth's POV**

Annabeth has never really liked rain much. Her skin is still damp and cold despite the fact that Leo is blasting the heat on high, and her hair is a stringy, ever dripping mess. But at this moment, she is forever grateful for its presence. The anxiety that seems to permanently reside in her chest has not budged since she fled her home, and being in such close quarters with a stranger does nothing to help it.

Fifteen minutes in, and the car ride is silent, save for the light pitter-pattering that the raindrops make on the hood of Leo's car. They have already made proper introductions and previously have come to the agreement that she's currently unfit to be driving.

This is all as well as the fact that Leo truly dislikes Jason Grace, for some reason unknown, and would want nothing more than to go against everything the quarterback would ever suggest.

And thankfully after the fact, said boy mostly keeps to himself, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he hums along to the melody of the song that is playing on his aux.

Through the darkness that presides over the interior of the truck, Annabeth reflexively takes note of the worn leather seats that fill her body with warmth. They are wrinkled and maroon, and she knows that if they were human they would have millions of proverbs to share. The air has a coppery scent with heavy undertones of gasoline and motor oil, but she cannot find within herself a reason to care about that.

She finds it a bit comforting.

Annabeth counts the seconds of silence as they melt into minutes, her stomach rumbling at the thought of Leo attempting to strike conversation and breaking the auditory solitude. She repeatedly traces her fingers over the car door's lock, attempting to swallow her nausea as best as she can.

 _Why is she nervous?_

Annabeth knows that she has no reason (as of now) to feel weak in the stomach. But as she casts another sideways glance at the Latino boy sitting to her left through her curly tresses of a curtain, she realizes that she has _every_ reason.

Leo is a loose cannon.

A ticking time bomb.

And she knows it will only be so long before he explodes with the urge to converse.

Again, her stomach growls at the thought of it alone.

The younger boy notices. He glances at Annabeth for the briefest of moments before turning back to the road. "Are you hungry?" He asks kindly. The tone that is lilted into his words suggests that he blames himself for being socially obtuse.

As if he should've assumed that she would be hungry.

"We can stop somewhere to eat, if you want."

Annabeth rapidly shakes her head in refusal. "I'm fine," She croaks weakly. Her cheeks begin to burn, and she clears her throat before whispering out. "I ate at home... before I l-left." Her heart skips a beat at her lie, slamming into her rib cage.

 _Why is she nervous?_

"Are you sure?" Leo glances at her again, longer this time. "It's really no problem fur'me. I know a place a few minute s'from here."

"I'm not hungry." Annabeth's tone is pleading.

He drops it, chuckling a bit under his breath. But even so, Annabeth notices that the volume of his music significantly lowers.

"So tell me, Blondie, are you excited to graduate?" Leo's voice tremors slightly with humor as he bares a graceful right turn. The blonde-haired girl watches in near awe as he spins the steering wheel with a mere flick of his wrist.

It's almost as if the truck is alive, deep in conversation with the Latino's directions.

His question piques her interest. "How did... how did you know?" She mumbles out. The few number of people to ever notice her usually assume she's a sophomore due to her size and youthful features.

It _is_ fair, however, seeing as how she is the youngest in her class. She had skipped the seventh grade.

Leo smiles. "Process of elimination."

"Oh." The blonde feels her cheeks warm as she turns back towards the window, silently praying that all conversation will halt.

"Aren't you going to ask me something, Blondie?" Leo's voice fills the space between them, cracking a bit at the end of his question. His tone is teasing and a tad flirtatious and it does _nothing_ to diminish the rumbling that is currently taking place in Annabeth's stomach.

"What?" She doesn't dare turn her head.

The truck drawls to a stop at a red light. Leo audibly shifts in his seat, shaking the vehicle as he positions himself closer to the center console. She peeks over at him through the corners of her eyes.

"We're playing twenty questions," He grins, exhibiting his near perfectly straight teeth. A mischievous glint shines in his coffee bean eyes, and Annabeth suddenly feels as if the air around her has been set aflame.

She swallows before pausing, allowing the silence to swell a bit more.

"What grade are you in?" She finally squeezes out.

 _What a moronic question to ask._ She chides herself quickly after.

Leo exhales softly out of his nose and a quiet smile ghosts over his lips. "I'm a sophomore. Two more years left uh'this hell hole and then I can finally _fucking_ leave." His tone is so hopeful it almost puts Annabeth at ease.

Almost.

He's close enough that she can catch the faint scent of wood smoke and gasoline that lingers on his clothes. The thought of that alone is enough to send another wave of anxiety through her core.

 _Why is she nervous?_

The Latino moves away only a little bit. "Sorry," he mumbles out a bit sheepishly.

She turns to him, twisting a curl between her thumb and forefinger. "It's fine. I don't really... really care about that kind of stuff. Cuss all you want." Annabeth's eyes flutter closed as the sounds of shattering glass and screams scramble across her mind for the second time that night.

Her stomach rumbles for the umpteenth time. No, she _definitely_ doesn't care about that.

"You sure you're not hungry?"

"Does that count as one of your questions?" The dry tone of her voice surprises her.

Leo grins even more, leaning backward just until the street lights cast a warm glow over his toffee skin. His irises suddenly darken. "Does _that_ count as a question, Blondie?"

Annabeth can't stop the smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. "Your game, your rules... You decide." The nervousness in the pits of her gut only grows.

The truck lurches forward as the light turns green and Leo fixates himself back into his seat. He responds without taking his eyes off the road. "Let's not count those as questions. Wouldn't want to waste any."

 _And why is that?_ Annabeth wonders to herself.

The curly-haired boy casts another sideways glance at her, a look passing over his face that she doesn't want to decipher. "Are you single?"

 _Are you single..._

 _ **Are you single?**_

Annabeth's hands clutch her stomach as she hunches forward, his question bringing forth a vision of pale blond hair and a scarred face that leaves her throat dry. The rumbling in her stomach is replaced with nausea and rises into her chest. It presses against her rib cage with an untamed vengeance, squeezing the oxygen out of her lungs and-

 _"Never forget that you're mine, Anna. You belong to me."_

 _You belong to me._

 _You belong to me._

 _You belong to-_

"Hey, hey, hey," Leo eases on the brakes as he pulls over on the side of the road. Annabeth hears his seat belt unbuckle and soon after feels warmth spread over her back as he places a hand there. She flinches away instinctively. "I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing." He quickly apologizes, withdrawing his hand.

Annabeth desperately attempts to swallow the lump in her throat. _Has the truck always been this small or are the doors simply closing in?_

She shuts her eyes as she tries to rid her mind of his cursed face. Those taunting ice blue eyes are permanently etched into her conscience, scarring and treacherous. Seconds sneak by, insignificant and silent, as she tries to get a hold of herself. Annabeth can barely hear Leo's breaths as he stares at her in what she assumes to be reproach.

And still, all she can hear is his goddamned _voice_ , apologizing over and over and saying that he'll come back for her.

All she can hear are his lies... over and over and _over_.

 _"I promised, Anna, remember?"_

"Dude... are you okay?" Leo whispers into the silence. There is something about his tone of voice that tells Annabeth that he understands in a sort of way. His words are kind and his presentation runs over with concern.

He's been in her position before.

She then hears his disappointed groan and a faint cuss before he hurries on. "Okay, _clearly_ you're not okay— anyone can see that. But... everything will be good, yeah?"

Annabeth stills at Leo's words; the chaos in her mind calms a degree.

"I don't know what you're going through— and frankly maybe I never'will, but you're _gonna be okay_ , Blondie. You'll get through this." It's almost as if he's speaking to himself; reassuring himself, encouraging himself. He continues, his voice just barely over a whisper. "This is all just temporary. You'll heal."

 _You'll heal._

The skin on her forearms begins to tingle, small pinpoints of pressure spreading over her flesh- reminding her of its existence and her own history.

 _You will heal._

Moments pass, melting into minutes upon minutes. All full of silence. Soon enough, the face that haunts her by day fades back into her subconscious, where it will lie in wait until its next attack. Annabeth sucks in a sharp breath before gently sitting upwards. She combs her hair out of her face and shoots a sideways glance at Leo.

He's staring out at the road ahead through the windshield. The blonde can tell from the vacancy in his eyes that he's in another place.

After all, how many times has she woken up in the morning and seen that exact emptiness riddling her own face in the bathroom mirror?

 _How long has she been fighting her own mind in a battle of pure willpower, struggling to hold herself together before she can seize a chance to escape?_

She forces herself to speak. "I'm sorry about that." Annabeth swallows the anxiety in her stomach. "I am... _single-_ to answer your question."

Leo turns to her, his eyes overflowing with humor. Annabeth immediately takes note of the ingenuity of said humor but says nothing. It isn't as if she has much room to judge.

"Well, lucky me, then." The Latino smirks kindly and eases back into traffic. "Say, Blondie, you listen to Lil Nas X?"

Annabeth shakes her head and wets her lips. "No."

His grin stretches wider. "Well, today is the day that I _put you on._ " His hand reaches for the volume dial and Annabeth watches with ever-growing nervousness in her chest as their eyes meet.

Wisps of mischief dance in his irises, dipping in and out of his onyx pupils. And again, Annabeth experiences a surge of unease as the air around her crackles with heat; as if a fire is burning.

Leo cackles as he draws back and fixates his eyes on the road.

The blonde listens intently to the opening melody of the song. She picks out the plucking of strings of what sounds like either a banjo or an acoustic guitar. A young male voice hums over the sounds, harmonizing as the music gives way to the first verse.

The faintest of smiles play over the corners of her lips as Leo belts out the lyrics. His voice is as raspy as ever, but she finds that it suits him. Intriguing. " _I'm gonna take my horse to the old town road._ _I'm_ _gonna_ _ride til' I can't no more."_

And well, her smile is only faint until the beat drops.

Annabeth wheezes with abrupt laughter as the melodic voice from before is replaced with a deeply baritone'd Southern drawl spitting straight _bars_.

The base sends vibrations of rhythm throughout the truck and Leo screams at the top of his lungs, his energy matching that of the song's. " _I got the horses in the back. Horse tack is attached. Hat is matte black. Got the boots that's black to match._ _Riding on a horse._ " He then breaks into dance as they pull up to another stop light, Milly Rocking flawlessly. " _You can whip your Porsche. I been in the valley, You ain't been up of_ _the_ _porch_ , _now_."

The first verse is soon the chorus and Leo is practically vibrating with life in his seat. All negative, blank thoughts have seemingly left his mind for the time being. He grips the steering wheel in faux anguish, belting out the lyrics as he closes his eyes and tips his head backward.

Again, the light shifts to green and the truck careens forward down the street. Every few lines, Leo curls his hand into a fist before beating it against the edge of the steering wheel.

Annabeth looks on in amusement as the Latino rolls his r's with ease and joy.

The song very quickly comes to an end, the tune fading out softly as the voice from the beginning hums once more. Leo glances at Annabeth when the truck is finally silent. His eyebrow arches as the mischievous glint returns in his pupils. "So... how did you like it?"

The blonde's cheeks warm as she combs through a few locks of hair, wondering how to word her response. Her stomach twists for a few brief moments before she forces herself to overcome her nausea.

 _You wanted friends, Annabeth. This is your chance._

 _No more being nervous._

She pulls her hand away from her hair and readjusts her position. Then, after glancing at Leo for a brief second before fixating her gaze on the whirlwind of passing trees that melt into a blur of shades of asphalt and umber, she answers. "The person who wrote that- _Lil Nas X_ ," she pauses to swallow down a laugh. "Was he being serious or was that entire song just troll spawn."

Leo cackles. " _Troll spawn._ " The truck slows at a stop sign, and his laughter subsides only slightly as he checks the intersecting street for any sight of traffic onslaught. Then, after pulling forward, Leo answers. "To be completely honest, I have no idea. It's one of those things where you can't decide if someone's being serious or not."

Annabeth nods, understanding what he meant. She glances at the digital clock that is directly under the volume dial. It reads 10:23.

Any nausea that had been under her control revolts as her chest constricts. Every nerve in her body is burning as she is suddenly reminded of the fate that awaits her at home. Before long, she notices that Leo's pulling into her subdivision. Every familiar house, car, and lawn taunts her as the pair near her address.

Leo whistles appreciatively. "I had no idea that you lived on this side of town." His jaw then drops as they drive by a large-scaled house with a crimson brick exterior. Thick columns stand sentry before the front door, giving way to a semi-circle driveway. " _Aye,_ _Dios mio_ ," Leo mutters under his breath. "-House is big as fuck, and for what?" He shakes his head slightly as the truck leaves it in the dust.

Annabeth doesn't fail to notice the slight reproach that seeps into the Latino's words. Interesting.

"Are your parents rich or something?" His slightly-gravelly voice jolts her from her thoughts, rooting her back to reality. Leo's eyes are only a little serious as he looks at her every few moments.

The senior twists a curl between her fingers, her cheeks warming. "My dad used to be a big shot airplane engineer back in the day, but now he just teaches classes down at the community college. And my stepmom," she pauses briefly as Helen's disgruntled face flashes into the view of her mind's eye. "She was an anesthesiologist before she quit her job two years ago."

Leo nods, not offering any more than that. For some reason, Annabeth is quick to fill the silence.

"What about... what about you?" She questions, her voice catching in her throat just a tad. "What do your parents do?"

Leo turns onto her street, silent for a few seconds before answering her question. "Well, as I'm sure you're aware of, my dad owns an auto repair shop. And my mom... used to handle the money and shit; accounting and all that, y'know?" His voice is wary, as if he already knows the question that Annabeth will ask next.

Except she will not ask the question. She doesn't fail to notice the fact that he says it all as if his mother is no longer a part of his life- either through death or divorce. And she doesn't even think about pushing him for more than what he is clearly unwilling to delve. Annabeth simply nods and turns back to the window.

And tries her hardest to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Which _palace_ is yours again?" Leo questions, slowing the vehicle as his gaze darts between each dark shaded house that lines the manicured street. Annabeth looks over at him for what feels like the tenth time in the past fifteen minutes. If his goal is to hide his disdain, he fails miserably.

Her cheeks warm as she leans forward and points towards a three-story grey-stoned building a few houses down. "It's that one."

He snorts, accelerating the truck forward just a tad as they continue down the street. "I should'uh known your parents're the type to have a _full_ circular driveway. The entire thing practically screams pretentious."

Annabeth's thoughts flash to her father dabbing the corners of his lips with an embroidered napkin, his eyes tainted red and his clothes wrinkled. She swallows. _You have no idea._

The pair pull into her driveway. Annabeth stares out the window, her sight catching onto the yellow light bulbs that illuminate the front of the house from behind molded glass. Every fiber of her being begs her to stay in the car.

To remain curled against the weathered maroon seats.

To remain wrapped in the coppery scent that envelopes her.

To stay _away_ from home.

 _Why is she nervous?_

 _Because she has every reason to be,_ she chides herself back. Her eyes fluttered closed as she swallows. _No more being nervous, you coward. No more running away; fleeing the scene. No more-_

The sound of Leo's whistle meets her ears, attacking from behind. She assumes that he's giving her house another once over. "Even if I think that this is all fucking extra- not that my opinion _matters_ or anything, but I'll go off until I'm 6 feet under anyways- whoever designed this house is a _genius_."

Annabeth stiffens as he continues.

"I mean, look at the curvature of the columns. They're designed to take some of the weight off the cornerstone of the house. I'm losing my mind, man. Like, who would've even _thought_ of that?"

 _Athena de la Minerva would._

Annabeth forces passiveness to take control of her facial features as she turns to Leo. His eyes are a bit widened with excitement as he studies the front of the house further, his gaze, without a doubt, taking in every minor detail and processing it as he goes.

He looks drunk.

"Thank you, for driving me home and picking up my car, Leo." She breaks the silence.

His dark mahogany irises are chips of amber as they flicker to her face, glowing in the faint light. The Latino grins with a flair of faux bashfulness as he lowers his head a bit and peers up at her through his lashes. "It was my pleasure, Blondie."

Annabeth swallows, her stomach churning as the air seemingly crackles with heat and intensity. She needs to leave. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He grins wider.

The blonde exits the tow truck, gripping her dead phone and her car keys as she closes the door behind her and starts for the front of the house.

And, with a woeful sigh, she doesn't fail to notice that the curtain in the front window slightly moves out of place, then shifts back again.

* * *

The house is eerily quiet as Annabeth shuts the front door behind her. There is a faint light emanating from the kitchen, but save from that- every room on the ground floor is dark. She slips off her shoes, wanting to sigh in relief...

But she knows better.

She leaves her shoes to dry out by the laundry room before heading towards the staircase. Her keys jangle loudly as they clang against the polished wooden banister, seemingly alerting the entire street of her presence. Annabeth winces but doesn't accelerate her pace.

 _Why is she nervous?_

The senior nearly makes it halfway up the stairs when she hears a faint call from somewhere behind her.

" _Annabeth._ " It sounds pained.

She freezes in her tracks, her stomach rumbling as she debates whether or not she should turn around and face her demons, or run for the umpteenth time and attempt to drown them.

" _Annabeth, please._ " It calls again, closer this time.

The blonde swallows the growing lump in her throat as she whips around, more abrupt than she intended to. She drops her keys. The metal chains and tools clatter to the floor, sliding down each step encased with marble.

He's standing at the foot of the stairs, staring up at her with an expression that nearly feigns regret. Even in the darkness, Annabeth can see the pale bandage wrapped around his severed ear lobe. Nasty bruises the shades of onyx, indigo, and violet riddle his temples and cheekbones.

"Where were you?" He asks, his voice refusing to let any emotion leak through.

Annabeth walks a few steps in order to retrieve her keys. Her stomach churns further as she stands up and faces him. Up close, she can see that his lower lip has swelled enough to make a Kardashian sneer.

"Out." She answers vaguely. She turns to leave.

"That's not an answer." He takes a step forward, foot coming to rest on the bottom step, hand gripping the banister. "Where were you?"

Annabeth swallows again. Or, at least, she attempts to. "Why do you care so much, Dad?"

His eyes remain stagnant as he stares at her. "You disappear with my car for over 2 hours and come back with a stranger in a tow truck. Where were you, Annabeth? I will not ask again."

The nausea that hits her has more force than a freight train. "In that case, you won't have to." She swallows again. "I'll be going to bed now. Goodnight, Dad."

She starts up the stairs once more. But even still, he refuses to let her leave in peace. "Why won't you let me _care_ about your well being?" He nearly cries out.

Annabeth glances over her shoulder, but not for long. She can't bear to look at him. "You haven't cared for a very long time. What happened here tonight-" She pauses abruptly as the image of her brother flinging the knife at him passes over her mind. She waits until it subsides. "What happened here tonight is proof of that. Please, let me go to sleep."

"What are you even talking about?" Frederick's voice is much more exasperated than it can afford to be.

She doesn't even attempt to look at him this time. "I know you. You knew exactly what you were doing when you brought up that internship. Goodnight." And without another word, Annabeth scurries up the stairs, careening herself towards her bedroom.

And this time, he doesn't say a word.

She is grateful for the solace that envelops her the second her loft bedroom door shuts. Annabeth's chest heaves as she slides to the floor, her gaze losing focus as she wraps her arms around her shins.

 _Why didn't you stand your ground?_ She begs herself. _How long are you going to run?_

Her mind plagues her in response as she forces herself to stand and face her mirror. She sits at her vanity, staring at her tired reflection.

 _It won't matter either way- you're a prisoner here._ It taunts. _You're trapped. You'll never make it out._

"I'll never make it out." She echoes without emotion. Now, more than ever, she deeply wishes that she could cry.

But she isn't strong enough for that. She's cried enough for one night, anyways.

 _Coward, coward, coward, coward-_

"No," She closes her eyes and swallows the lump that has invaded her throat, welcoming the brief infinite darkness. "I'm _not-_ "

 _"I **own** you, Annabeth." _His scarred face suddenly leaps to the forefront of her mind. _"Never forget that I'm the only one who cares about you. So act accordingly. Now, give me a hug, Anna."_ He then purrs. _"I've missed you."_

Her eyes snap open, catching her own gaze within the mirror's reflection. She recognizes the panic and terror that overcomes her expression.

Annabeth leans over the vanity, pressing her elbows into the top and squeezing her temples with the butts of her hands. Her pupils dilate slightly as she murmurs to herself repeatedly. "Keep it together, Annabeth. You are _not_ a coward."

 _You are not a coward. You are not a coward._

 _You are a coward._

 _Coward, coward, coward-_

It is just past 3:18 am when she finally stops tormenting herself, accidental slumber being her only respite.

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **The next morning.**

Disgust is the first thing to assault the pits of Annabeth's stomach when she awakes. She lifts her head from its position against the top of her vanity. Her tired gaze meets itself in the mirror's reflection. The stare holds for longer than it probably should. She grits her teeth.

Her bedroom is still dark. And based on the heavy shadows that line the walls, she guesses that it's around 6:30.

The entire house is silent. Silent enough that the cries of her subconscious are just barely audible.

And again, Annabeth reminds herself that she will forever be grateful for the peace that assuredly comes with early Thursday mornings.

Her stepmother is currently wasting her day away uptown at morning session vod-yoga (yes, it is a real thing, and _yes,_ it is exactly as it sounds). Frederick has 8 am and 2 pm classes to teach on Thursdays, and the twins have to get to school early on Thursdays due to wrestling practice.

The blonde stands, rubbing the crust from her eyes as she scans her bedroom. Her eyes fall to the sight of her bed.

She scoffs a bit under her breath when she notices the imprints that her body had left the morning before when she talked with Malcolm over the phone. Who would've thought that the day would end in utter shit?

Her curtains billow under the wave of heated air that passes through the vents. Although her bedroom is still rather dark, she can see through her window that the sky bleeds with reddish tones and baby pink hues as the sun slowly inches its way across the arches.

Annabeth shuffles towards the bathroom and starts up a shower, attempting to appreciate the tranquility that the day has blessed her with.

But as the hot water rolls over her skin, she is left alone to her thoughts. Annabeth shuts her eyes and turns her back to the stream of water as Malcolm's screams fill her head.

 _Again, and again, and again, and again, and-_

It all she can hear for who knows how long, and another wave of nausea hits her stomach.

"I've been in here for too long," she murmurs to herself through the thick curtains of steam. Her vision is a cloud of fog as she grabs the slick knob and shuts off the water. Her head spins, and she yanks back the curtain, swallowing thickly as cold air rushes over her bare skin.

Annabeth shuffles back towards her bedroom, drying off as she goes, and keeps her gaze on the floor.

It's reflexive at this point... keeping her gaze trained on the floor.

She barely feels the soles of her feet brush against the carpet.

She's nearly floating.

She always floats after she relapses back into the cage that is her own mind-

" _Fuck this._ " Annabeth stops in front of her mirror, scowling at her reflection as she grips her towel tighter within her grasp. She jabs an accusing finger at the blonde that scowls back at her. "Get it the _fuck_ together, Chase. Only a few more months, okay? Coward or not," Her voice falters for a hesitant moment before she hurries on. " _Coward or not_ , you can hold it together for just a little while longer. Quit feeling so sorry for yourself. You are _not_ a coward, actually."

And for the life of her, she isn't able to convince herself of that.

Her iron-grey eyes seemingly taunt her for a ten-second count before she stiffly turns away and begins getting dressed for the day.

 _So much for the vote of confidence._ She chides herself. The blonde zips up her skirt after pulling on her white thigh high socks (why they are even a part of the uniform- she has no idea).

Annabeth buttons up her pale blouse in utter silence, her mind drifting through the events of the day before. Just as she is getting to the point where her family is sitting down to dinner, she pulls her thick hair into a ponytail at the back of her head and forces herself out of her thoughts.

"Get it together." She repeats as she sleeves on a knit purple cardigan.

She slings her backpack over her shoulder, eyes scanning the room for her phone which is (still) dead. The blonde spots it on her desk, grabbing it out of courtesy and nothing more.

The clock on her bedside table states that it's just past 7:30 now, meaning her flats will still be damp.

 _Bygones will forever be bygones,_ Annabeth grins. She pulls out her favorite pair of Sperry's, grateful to finally have an excuse acceptable enough (for herself) to wear them to school.

After she is completely dressed, she heads down to the garage. Annabeth has to force herself to ignore the four empty plates that sit abandoned on the kitchen table, refusing to remind herself of the fact that her family had eaten breakfast together and hadn't bothered to save her any food- or invite her, for that matter.

Instead, she grabs a packet of seasoned pistachios and makes herself a caramel tea before sliding into the front seat of her stepmother's Jeep. "Bygones will forever be bygones." She repeats to herself.

But if bygones will forever be bygones... why is she nervous?

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Lunchtime. In the library.**

Annabeth settles into her favored seat towards the back of the school library, nearly impatient to crack open for the 87th time (to be exact) her worn copy of the _Allegory of the Cave_ by Plato.

The day has so far passed by uneventfully. Silena had attempted to strike further conversation with her in PE, but Mr. Hedge had actually shown up to class that day, and thus the blonde was allowed to slink to the back of the crowd and wait for the class period to end.

No one else pays attention to her in her other classes, which she will forever appreciate. Annabeth has had enough of the constant stomach rumbles and waves of nausea that always seems to assault her whenever she is forced to speak to anyone who she isn't comfortable with.

The only except being, however, whenever she is tutoring.

She finishes off the last few drops of her caramel tea, and just as she is about to place it back to its position against the wooden tabletop, she hears a familiar voice cry out from off to her right.

" _There you are, you brainchild_."

Annabeth forces herself to keep from smiling as she glances at the newcomer. Piper shuffles forward and slams her palms against the table, leaning over the blonde. In turn, Annabeth tilts her head back with a hint of a grin.

That grin vanishes once she notices the anxious glint that hides in the depths of her Cherokee friend's multi-colored irises.

"What's wrong?" Annabeth feels her eyebrows furrow.

Piper chews on her lip. "I'm sorry to bother you like this, Annabeth. Really, I am." She leans back, swallowing thickly as she runs her fingers through her choppy coffee-toned hair. "I need you to do me a favor." She finally blurts out, almost apologetically.

A flare of nausea hits Annabeth's stomach, churning the bile in the pits.

 _Why is she nervous?_

* * *

 **A/N: And here is chapter 5! I promised I would get it out before Easter and I did! Yay!**

 **Sadly, this chapter didn't turn out as good as I had hoped, but after weeks of editing and revising, this is as best as I can do. Please don't hate me lmao.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


	6. his: unsteady

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Unsteady by X Renegades**

 _"Hold on, hold on to me, 'cause I'm a little unsteady."_

 **Chapter VI**

 **Percy's POV**

Percy tosses his fourth empty can of Red Bull into the trash just as first light hits. He drags a hand down his face and leans over the kitchen table as the crumpled aluminum clangs between walls of plastic. His stomach rumbles, but his practically untouched scrambled eggs have long since gone cold.

" _Read, goddammit._ " The senior curses himself for the umpteenth time as he squints at his anatomy text book. He nearly flips the table as the letters on the page begin to dance and swirl together as if they've drunk too much on a Friday night. "Why can't you just look at the words and _read_ them? _Why?_ " He rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger before pushing his seat away from the kitchen table and glances at the clock on the microwave.

Just past 6:30 am.

Percy huffs in resignation and closes his anatomy book.

It looks like he might need a tutor after all. But that thought alone is enough to send flicks of worry flitting through his chest.

 _How will he pay for it?_

He certainly can't afford a tutor- not when he has rent to worry about and piling car payments to submit.

The eighteen year old shuffles towards the bathroom, burrowing his hand into his black hair as he yawns.

He knows he'll come up with something.

 _He has to._

Percy pushes the bathroom door open and heads straight for the shower, not even attempting to glance at his reflection in the mirror. He's realized that staring at himself tends to open a gate of negativity and plagued thoughts.

And he doesn't need that at the moment. Not when he's decided that he must live for his mother from now on.

"Positivity is key," he murmurs to himself as he turns on the cold water, recalling the proverb that his mother used to say. "Positivity is key." He repeats as he sheds his clothing. Percy grips the shower curtain in his fist, yanking it backwards before stepping under the flow of ice cold water. He exhales slowly as he tilts his head back and shuts his eyes. " _Positivity is key._ "

He doesn't know how long he is under the stream of water, fighting to keep all doubts and intrusive thoughts from scattering across the forefront of his conscience. It truly is a battle. But he's determined to win this time.

No matter how much he may stumble.

Percy hums to himself, allowing the melody of every song that vibrates between his lips to carry away his troubles for the time being. He stares at the ceiling above silently, studying each dip and cranny with the intensity of a predator.

He shuts off the water after he runs out of songs to hum, twisting the shower knob into silence. The black haired student secures a towel around his waist and heads towards his bedroom. Percy steps over every obstacle that lounges on the hallway floor with expertise, pushing his door open.

He drops the towel and slides on a pair of boxers, tiny water droplets dampening the waistband on their descent towards the floor.

"Where the everloving _fuck_ is my phone?" He mutters to himself, nearly breaking his neck as he searches every available surface in his room. He immediately spots it on his bed, half hidden and nearly forgotten under his thin pillow. Percy nearly dives for it. "And to think you thought you could hide from _me,_ " he smirks under his breath as he unplugs it from the charger and pulls it out from its hiding place.

" _Y'ello?"_ A blond voice answers on the second ring.

Percy rolls his eyes as he puts the phone on speaker. He forces himself not to comment on that. _Positivity is key_. "Hey, Jace."

Jason audibly yawns and Percy hears AC/DC playing faintly in the background. "Morning, Lover. What's up with the call? A simple text would have sufficed."

The eighteen year old withholds another eye roll at the pet name as he pulls on a pair of black chinos. He grips the phone in his hand. "First of all, I don't even want to know why you're pretending to be sleepy right now. Or at _home_ , for that matter." Percy places his phone on the edge of his dresser as he begins digging around in his closet for a clean button up.

He can practically _hear_ his cousin's blush over the line.

"How did you-"

"Thalia got over her AC/DC obsession back when we were 14, Superman. And Dakota is the only one I know who still listens to them- the Di Angelos excluded. Plus, Gwen told me one time that Dakota likes to blast their music while he's in the shower." Percy calls out in the direction of the receiver as he pulls out a fresh shirt. He begins buttoning it without hesitation, his gaze fluttering to the clock every now and then.

There must have been something with his tone, because Jason begins apologizing. "Look, Perce, I really _am_ sorry about not showing up last n-"

Percy snatches his phone off his dresser while stopping his cousin's apology in its tracks. "Don't worry about it." He mutters into the line with nonchalance. "I'm sure whatever it was, it was important."

The line is silent for a five second count. "Well... _yeah_ , but-"

Percy chuckles as he pulls on a pair of socks. " _Jace_ , _it's okay._ " He swallows briefly, remembering his promise to himself to stop using his cousin as his personal anti-depressant. "You didn't miss much, anyways." He continues on, the lie scorching his throat with a flame of guilt.

"If you say so, Perce..." Jason sighs. "I'm still really sorry."

The black haired student smiles to himself as he stuffs his feet into his ratty Converses. "I know you are. Tell 'Kota I said hey."

"Wait- are you not riding with me today?"

"Nah." Percy slips his supple purple necktie under his collar before tightening it. "I think I'm finally gonna put the 'cycle to use today. I have a few places to stop at before school." He slings his swim bag over his shoulder.

"Skipping practice?" The smirk in the blond's voice is nearly palpable. Percy doesn't fail to notice the sudden decrease in volume of background music on the other end either.

"Something like that. Listen, I'll see you at school, yeah?"

"Yeah... See you later, loser."

"Later."

Percy hangs up the phone and turns to stare at himself in the mirror, running his fingers through his thick locks. He swallows. Storm clouds roll into the irises of his deep sea green eyes, fat tears stinging the corners. The news of the past two nights assault his mind over and over, bringing forth a new wave of despair and-

 _Positivity is key_ , he reminds himself as he turns away. His glance lands on his motorcycle helmet, triggering a tired grin.

 _It truly is a battle. But he's determined to win this time._

 _...He has to._

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Auto repair. 7:25 am.**

"If I see y'er cheeky face around here one mor'time, I'm gonna start chargin' you."

Percy stifles a chuckle as he removes his helmet and tucks it under his arm. "I think that's a bit extreme, sir."

Hephaestus simply grunts in response as he wipes a greasy hand down the front of his service shirt. "Do you actually have the money tuh'pay for it this time or are you just'here tuh window shop?"

The black haired student balances his helmet between the handlebars and slightly leans back in his seat. "I'm still poor, if that's what you're asking."

"You didn't answer the question, boy. And I wasn't asking."

"You already know the answer, anyways. Where's your son?"

"Whi-" Hephaestus's lips form another question before he quickly stops himself. He clears his throat. "Leo's inside."

"And your other apprentice?" Percy drops the kickstand and swings his leg over the seat, shoving his hands into his pockets once he's fully standing.

The burly mechanic in front of him scratches at his scraggly beard before crossing his arms. His eyes narrow in a way that reminds him so much of Beck it nearly gives him deja vu. "You sure are asking a lot of questions today, Jackson."

Percy shrugs as a dark thought scrambles across the forefront of his mind. "Blame it on the Red Bull." He nearly fakes a shit-eating grin, but decides he doesn't have the energy to do so at the moment. He settles for a wry smirk instead.

Hephaestus grunts again and waves his hand towards the back of the garage. "You already know where y'er precious car is, anyways. Don't know why y'er still wastin' our time talkin to'me." He pauses briefly before continuing on. "Beckendorf is either at his girlfriend's house or he's muckin it up with that Dakota kid. You know- the Kool-Aid one."

Percy's eyebrows pinch at the sound of that news. "Yeah, I know the one. Thanks, sir."

"Mhm." The mechanic turns back to his work.

 _Why are Jason and Beck both over at Dakota's?_ The high school student wonders to himself, letting his half-smile drop. He shuffles a bit tiredly towards the back of the car garage, his eyes again stinging with tears as he nears the door that leads to the connected house.

Percy presses a finger to the corner of his eyes to squeeze out the tears as he pushes the door open. " _Leooooooo,_ " He sings out, blinking rapidly. "Where are you, buddy?"

"M'in the kitchen!" The sophomore instantly replies. "Shouldn't you be at practice?" Leo raises an eyebrow as Percy appears in the doorway of the kitchen. The younger of the two is eating a bowl of cereal while assembling some abstract figure that reminds Percy of a crippled possum.

Percy deeply inhales the familiar scent of wood smoke and swallows as he kerplunks into a wooden chair opposite of Leo. He then forces the next dark thought that emerges at the sound of his question to fade away into the depths of his subconscious. "I have other things to take care of today."

The Latino's eyebrow inches higher, but he doesn't lift his gaze from his work. " _Like_?"

Percy leans over the table and cocks his head a bit to the side. "What's it to you?"

Leo sucks his teeth, his dark irises meeting Percy's pained green ones head on. His Hispanic accent bubbles to the surface the moment his eyebrows furrow. " _Aye, aye, gringo._ " He chuckles with a type of richness that makes the wealthy green with envy. "Don't come into _my_ house askin' shit like that." He half grins cheekily and turns back to his work.

Percy laughs, but the emptiness of it is another blow to his stomach. He struggles to keep his tears at bay, hoping that Leo doesn't notice the failures of his humor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... but you should now what I'm here for by now."

The Latino shakes his head. "I'm _positive_ I al'ready told you yest'rday at lunch."

"That was what- 17 hours ago? Things can change in that amount of time, Valdez." The 18 year old makes a sorry attempt at a joke.

The young mechanic in front of him stills. And the kitchen is submerged in silence for longer than Percy is comfortable with.

 _Why is he nervous?_

Leo speaks to the table top. "What are you _really_ here for, Percy?" His head then jerks upward, his eyes tightening in a bit of a disapproving way. "I can smell ya B.S. from a mile away- and y' _know_ this McShizzle doesn't do B.S. So spill."

Percy swallows down another wave of tears.

 _Is he nervous because he doesn't want Leo to see through his facade?_

 _Or is he nervous because he might break down in this very kitchen?_

He doesn't want to know the answer.

"I-" The black haired student pauses. Leo stares at him expectantly, his gaze setting the air aflame. "I'll see you at school, alright?" He briskly stands to leave.

The Latino sighs. "Yeah, see ya, Jackson."

Percy's eyes burn with grief unshed as he turns his back on Leo. _Positivity is key._ He needs to get out- out of the kitchen, out of the house, out of the garage... just _out._

 _Positivity is key,_ _positivity is key,_ _positivity is key,_ _pos-_

"It's not healthy to carry a burden all on your own." Leo's sudden whisper halts him in his tracks. Percy stiffens as the Latino continues. "I know that better than anyone. You have to let someone in, Percy. You _have_ to."

For a moment, all Percy wants to do is turn around and prove his friend wrong.

For a moment, all he wants to do is scream until his throat burns with grief- until his tears run dry. All he wants is to simply cry out that he _has_ let someone in.

 _That he **has**_ _allowed someone else to carry this weight with him_...

 _And nearly **crippled** himself in the process._

But his longing to escape is _much_ greater than his longing to be right. So instead, he leaves the room without another word.

The only thing left in his wake are the drops of tears that litter the floors.

...

 _Is this why he's nervous?_

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Homeroom.**

"So the sentient waste of hair _is_ alive and well. Good to know."

Percy refuses to respond to the snarky comment as he slides into his usual seat, his eyes fluttering closed and his breaths evening out just a little bit more. He finds comfort and safety by being surrounded by all his friends. Normality.

And that's a bit of rareness that he needs more often.

 _"_ Fuck _off,_ Augur _._ I swear to gods if you don't _shut up,_ I'll make you." Connor fires right back. Percy opens his eyes, and his gaze falls on his friend's face in time to see it morphing into an expression reeking of disgust. The younger half of the Stoll brothers continues. "You should be focusing on finishing the butterfly _before_ the timer goes off, instead of climbing up Percy's ass."

Octavian merely flips up his middle finger with a flair of untouched reproach before turning back to his conversation with a few other theater kids, shaking his white blonde hair out of his pale eyes.

Connor then shifts his attention to Percy, his left eyebrow arching even higher than it naturally did. "So where the _hell_ were you today anyways, Percy?" His klepto-blue eyes glitter enough to tell Percy that he isn't angry, just curious.

Percy exhales slowly through his nose, trying to ignore the sting of tears in the corners of his own eyes. "I had to check up on my car." He explains lamely.

"Man, _again_?" Travis interjects with a laugh, shaking his head. "Jesus, Percy, you'd think you _slept_ with the thing- I've never seen you care about an inanimate object so much."

The high school student in question pretends he's fighting off the thin ghost of a grin as the rest of his friends cackle.

"Is there something you're not telling us, Jackson? Are you secretly into machinery?"

"My chest is _constricting_ -I don't even think he cared about _Rachel_ this much when they had that 9 month fling sophomore year."

" _Did your car leave you on read or something? Are you trying to get a fucking text back? I'm crying!"_

Percy shakes his head, his stomach rumbling with hunger as he tries to shut out the blatant displays of joy that fill the space around him. And Beck is the only one to take notice.

He places a hand on Percy's shoulder, lowering his head. "Hey,"

Percy lifts to his gaze to meet his hickory irises head on. "Yeah, what's up?" He swallows shallowly, attempting to hide the lump that's invaded his throat. _Positivity is key._

But there's something about his friend's disbelieving gaze that sends another rumble, this one of anxiousness, through the pits of his gut. And just as before with Leo, Percy is nervous.

 _Why is he nervous?_

"What's wrong with you, Percy?" Beck questions him again, leaning back just enough to tie his shoulder-length dread locks into a loose bun. Percy's gaze catches onto the small gold clasps that adorn his friend's hair, glittering under the fluorescent lights.

And for a second, he considers telling Beck everything.

He _genuinely considers_ laying his burdens on yet _another_ one of his friends.

And that thought alone is enough to stop him in his tracks.

 _Positivity is key,_ he reminds himself. _You can do this on your own. You **don't**_ _need a crutch. You can do this._

He repeats that mantra to himself over and over until he almost believes it. And soon enough, the black haired student feels himself faking another smile and hiding his cries for help behind another shrug of nonchalance. "I'm just tired, Beck. This senior-itis is totally kicking my ass."

Beck nods for a five second count, and in that time Percy prays that he believes him.

 _Why is he nervous?_

"Okay, good. I thought you were going through some shit or some shit." Beck's lips curl up into a half grin on one side. "But to hear that it's just fatigue is a little bit better." He jokingly punches the swimmer's arm. "I just want you to be happy, man. You damn deserve it. We all do."

Percy nods and fakes yet another laugh, bowing his head in faux bashfulness in order to conceal the fact that he's nearly at his breaking point.

"Oh, and Percy," Connor's voice roots him back to reality after God knows how long.

He lifts his head questioningly, burying a hand into his thick hair. "Yeah?"

"Coach T wanted me to tell you that he wants to see you during your free period."

Percy's heart nearly falls out of his ass. _Fuck._ He swallows. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, man."

Connor grins, his eyebrows waggling as he teases. "I hope the car was worth it."

Screams of laughter erupt yet again as Percy shoves his friend out of his seat, his cheeks burning. Connor hits the ground with an exaggerated cry of pain _("Percy, I think you broke_ _something!_ "). "Screw off, Connor."

His friend grins cheekily as he gets up from the floor, dusting off his faded black slacks. Connor makes a big show of rearranging his tie and smoothing the wrinkles out of his knit purple vest. "Y'know, Jackson, some might say that acts of violence are a clear sign of _bitterness_." His sharp eyebrows cock up a tad higher as he slides back into his seat.

Percy again thanks his darker skin tone for the concealment of the rouge shade of embarrassment that's spread over his cheeks. He manages to retort in a cool tone. "Bitterness isn't in my vocabulary, Stoll."

Connor opens his mouth to respond, his eyes brightening, but the loud _clang!_ of the morning bell beats him to it. Students begin trickling out of their homerooms to walk to their first classes- a fact that only strengthens the lead in Percy's gut.

The black haired senior follows Beck, Frank, and the Stolls out to their lockers. They continue their conversation there, making the most of the four minutes they have before first period starts.

"No, but seriously, Connor, bitterness just _isn't_ in Jackson's vocabulary." Travis comments from somewhere off to Percy's left.

Percy exhales a small puff of breath through his nose, his lip curling up into a smirk. He doesn't open his eyes, and swallows down another wave of tears. He leans back against his locker.

The conversation goes on.

"I mean, have you even _heard_ what the freshman girls say about him?"

That statement has Percy's eyes flying wide open. " _What?_ "

Frank shakes his head, his cheeks tinting a light shade of pink as he continues. "Yeah, man. They're all obsessed with you."

" _What?_ "

"Don't forget about the sophomores and juniors too." Travis shuts his locker, gripping his AP Calculus textbook in his hands. "I remember after the game against Newport Day Academy, I overheard a whole bunch of 'em at the concession stand going on about the-" He pauses, squeezing the textbook between his knees so that his hands are free. "- _Things that they'd let you do to them_." The older half of the Stoll brothers then shudders visibly.

"And it's not just you, either." Connor interjects, leaning down to retie his shoes. He gazes up at them from his crouch. "They have some weird love for Beck and Jason too. Seriously- I don't know why they're so obsessed with you guys. Leaving the rest of us in the dust."

"Right," Travis complains.

Frank crosses his arms, both of his eyebrows shifting upwards. "Connor- the majority of them are underage. And you have an _entire_ girlfriend, Travis."

If either of the Stoll brothers pay any attention to Frank, they don't let on. Connor stands, rolling his eyes again. "I mean, what do they even _see_ in you guys? Seriously?"

Beck merely shrugs, a confident smile pulling at the edges of his lips. He unties his loose bun, his dreadlocks hanging free against his shoulders. "In all honesty, it's probably 'cuz I'm with 'Lena. A lot of them idolize her, and I guess I just got caught up in it since I'm her boyfriend."

"Okay, that's true. And I guess Grace has the whole "golden-boy-slash-rich-jock-blonde-hair-blue-eyes" thing going for him." Travis nods. His gaze then slides over to Percy. "And Jackson's the residential Nice Guy. So that must be it."

Percy cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing. How he has kept up his facade for this long, he has no idea. "Residential nice guy?"

"Yeah." Beck nods. "You're the easygoing type."

Frank agrees with a shrug. "You _are_ kind to everyone."

"I'm positive my grandmother has cussed out more people than you have."

"Mine too."

"Connor, we have the same grandmother."

"Piss off and let me live. Thanks."

Travis turns towards his younger brother, his free hand poised to smack him across the neck. But Frank stops him, his eyes stern. "Cool it, Travis. We need to go, anyways. Class starts in less than 2 minutes and we both know you're not gonna get another tardy. You care about that bet with Gwen _way_ too much."

Their green eyed friend merely grumbles out an incoherent indignant phrase before stalking off in Frank's wake. It sounds suspiciously a lot like curses of " _I hope he gets_ _penile dysfunction_ ," but Percy isn't sure.

Connor and Beck both state their goodbyes before going off their separate ways.

And again, Percy is left alone to his thoughts.

 _Positivity is key,_ he reminds himself, wiping a stray tear from his face. He grips his backpack strap as he walks toward the gym, trying his best to ignore his tears.

Trying his best to ignore his thoughts.

 _Why is he nervous?_

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Coach Triton's office.**

"Sit."

Percy's stomach rumbles as he shuts the door behind him and moves towards the seats that lay before his coach's desk. He cannot even pretend to smile at this point. "You wanted to see me, Coach?" He swallows thickly.

 _Why is he nervous?_

Coach Triton pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a loose sigh. The small room is plunged into thick silence.

 _One, two, three, four, five, four, three, two, one-_

"Percy." He breathes out. He shifts backwards and opens his eyes, his gaze meeting the swimmer's head on. "Where were you at practice this morning?"

The senior's heart races to the tune of guilt as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "I had to run some errands before school and-" He swallows again, tears springing into the corners of his eyes. Percy forces himself to pause in order to regather his emotions and sort them into order before they run rampant. He inhales, breathing in the cool air that smells faintly of water mint. " _Look_ , Coach. I'm sorry. I really-"

"I didn't call you here for you to apologize or for you to try and justify your actions, Percy." The look that crosses Coach Triton's face is disapproving enough to force Percy to look elsewhere. He isn't sure if he can handle seeing any more disapproving looks aimed at him.

His coach continues on. "I called you here for your _reasons_. As in- why did you think that it would be a good idea to skip practice when the remainder of your high school career depends on your scholarship? And what in the _world_ could possibly be more important than the rest of your high school career?" He folds his arms, leaning back. "And for that matter- did yesterday's conversation mean _nothing_ to you?"

 _I had to pick up another shift just so I could pay my rent,_ Percy desperately wants to scream out.

But admitting that won't do a thing. So he forces himself to bite his tongue. He remains silent instead, fixing his gaze on the etched wood of his coach's desk. His legs begin to pump with restlessness.

 _One, two, three, four, fi-_

"Percy," Triton sighs again and presses his palms together. He settles the points of his elbows into the surface of his desk and leans forward. His chin falls into the space between his thumbs and index fingers. "I just want to know what's going on in that head of yours. I want to help you, I _do_. But you _have_ to be willing to help yourself. _You have to_."

 _You have to_ , Leo's voice echoes right back. Percy clenches his jaw, tears threatening to spill over.

 _Positivity is key,_ _positivity is key,_ _positivity is key,_ _positivity is-_

"I mean, no offense, but the bags under your eyes are very concerning, Percy. Have you been getting enough sleep?" Triton's eyebrows pinch as he gazes deeper at the student's face. When he moves, the fluorescent lights cast a sharp glare on his inky hair. "Do I need to call your parents?"

 _Your parents._ _What a joke._ Percy's subconscious taunts him. Snarky breaths and murmurs skid across the forefront of his mind as they wreak havoc.

"I-" He opens his mouth to answer, but not a sound can be forced past the lump in his throat.

 _Your parents._

Instead, Percy feels his chest constrict in horror as three tears readily make their way down his face. _He's crying_.

Percy is disgusted with himself as he watches the expression on his coach's face morph from one of disappointed concern to shock. It all happens in what feels like slow motion.

 _He has to leave._

The senior stands abruptly, wiping his tears away and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I- I have to go. I'm sorry, Coach. I won't miss practice again. Promise." Percy cannot force his feet to move fast enough as he spins and hurries towards the door.

Coach Triton's chair squeaks as it rolls backward, signaling that he's standing up. "Percy, wait-"

But he's already gone.

Percy forces his head down as he walks through the busy gym, more tears running down his face. The sounds of his worn shoes squeaking against the polished wood floors mix into the cacophony sounds that already fill the room. "Stop _crying,_ damn it." He scolds himself, wiping the salted drops of water away with the sleeve of his shirt. Members of the current P.E. class call out to him as he passes by.

"Hey, Percy!"

"Yo, Percy, my main man!"

"Hiiiii, Percy."

All he can do is lift a hand in half-assed greeting as he roughly pushes the gym doors that empty into the hallway, his vision blurry and hazy. He stumbles through the halls, pressing a hand against his mouth in the attempt to silence or at least _hide_ the sounds of his anguish.

He begs himself. _How long are you going to run?_

Percy barely makes it to his locker before pressing his back against the walls of metal and sliding towards the floor. The linoleum tiles squeak in vengeance. His shoulders shake as he hides his head between his knees, more drops of water littering the floors as he seemingly bleeds out.

 _Deep breaths, Percy. Deep breaths._

 _Positivity is key._

"You can do this, Perce." He reminds himself. "You can do this." Over and over. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists until the knuckles are the same paleness of cotton. "You can do this. You _can._ _Fuck. You can._ "

 _You can't_. His mind quips.

" _I can_." He echoes again without missing a beat. His response is so mechanic that the student doesn't know who exactly he's attempting to convince.

Percy tilts his head back and swallows, breathing deeply as he tries to make out the designs on the ceiling tiles through his blurred vision. Triton's concerned face flits back into his mind and it is all Percy can do as he shuts his mouth as tight as he can and shakes with more sobs.

"Just be _happy_. Why can't you just be _happy_?" The student begs himself, as if pleading with his own mind in a search for respite. "You _know_ you're supposed to be living for _her_ , so why don't you _just_ -"

"Percy?" A soft whisper leaves his words to die on his tongue.

His head snaps up, leaving his tear streaked gaze to meet with a pair of versicolored irises.

She must've seen him tear out of the gym, because she's still dressed in the standard royal shaded shorts and white t-shirt with the school mascot on the upper left breast. Her arms are folded in the concerned way that Percy's come to recognize over the course of the years that they'd been best friends.

But _damn it_ if he wasn't getting sick of seeing concerned faces thrown at him all the time.

Piper immediately drops to a crouch in front of him once she sees his eyes that are undoubtedly bloodshot. "Woah, woah, Perce. What's wrong?" She reaches out to touch his arm.

Percy flinches away. "It's nothing, Pipes. I'm... I'm fine."

"Percy-"

" _Stop_." His voice is hoarse. Percy swallows and looks away, sinking a hand into his depths of his inky hair. " _Please,_ just leave me alone."

"What are you-"

He cuts her off again, this time looking her dead in the eyes as a new onslaught of tears make their way to his chin. Percy doesn't even bother wiping them away this time. "I have-" His breath shudders in his chest as he lamely attempts to control his inhales and exhales. " _I have to do this on my own_."

Piper frowns, her hands tugging on the little braids that stick out of her choppy hair. "I don't get what's going on with you, Perce, but _this_ -" She waves her hand at the drips of water that drop onto the floors and litter his forearms. "-Isn't something that you go through by yourself, Percy."

If he had the strength and motivation to, he would scoff. But he doesn't. He instead settles for a simple shake of his head. "You don't understand, Piper. I _have_ to do this." He swallows, his eyes welling up with tears as he continues. "I _promised,_ Piper. _I_ _promised_." Before she can continue, Percy goes on. "I'm strong enough. I _am_."

But again, he isn't sure who exactly he's attempting to convince.

"I can do it for the both of us, Pipes. I _can_." He inhales slowly and paws at the wetness against his face with the back of his sleeve.

Realization and recognition floods into Piper's eyes at his low whisper, and Percy is grateful that pity doesn't come along with them. She places a manicured hand on his shoulder. "There's no way in _h_ _ell_ that I'm going to let you go through this alone, Jackson. Tell me how I can take at least _some_ of the weight off. _Please._ "

...

Tutor. _He needs a tutor._

 _F_ _or the sake of his mother, and his own future, he will swallow his pride like a stone cold pill._

Percy sniffs, nodding slowly. "Okay."

Piper's eyebrows raise. "Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." He tries for a small smile, but the muscles in his face can't achieve it. He settles again for another nod as yet another drop of grief slides past his nose.

"Good. How can I help you, Percy?" Her eyes brighten with such an illumination of _relief_ and _genuineness_ that he's almost jealous.

"You... you have a tutor, right? Like a good one?" His stomach rumbles as he searches her face earnestly.

He needs this to work.

It has to work.

 _It has to._

The shine in her irises dims just a tad as she cocks her head to the side, a habit that she's picked up from Jason. "Yeah, I do. Why?"

Percy inhales and exhales without speed. One last tear manages to escape before he wipes his face for good. "Do... do you think you could do me a favor?"

"Will this help you?" She asks with honesty, understanding his plea without the need for explanation or words alike.

Relief floods his chest as he nods. "More than you could ever know."

Piper stands up from her crouch, a newfound sense of determination overtaking her angular features. "Then I'll talk to her at lunch."

"Thank you, Pipes."

She smiles down at him. From that angle, her irises are a vibrant shade of hazel. "Of course. You're one of my best friends, Percy."

He nods. "Yeah... yeah."

Percy resumes his former position, placing his head between his knees as the sound of Piper's gym shoes squeaking against the tiles fill his ears.

And then the sound pauses.

"And Perce?"

He glances up to see that she's already halfway down the hall. Piper stares back at him with an expression that he can't place. "Yeah?"

The expression fades as her lips split into a small but lopsided grin. "Mr. Brunner's office is always open, you know. If you can't talk to me... well, maybe you could talk to him." She then shrugs. "It's just a suggestion, but... he's the guidance counselor for a reason. Take advantage of it... or whatever."

Percy puffs out a small breath of amusement as she flashes him the peace sign and forces her lips into the shape of a duck. "But you could totally fucking ignore me. It's cool either way. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah. I'll see you later, Pipes."

And then she lopes off.

The senior leans back against his locker and stares at the ceiling for a period of time that he doesn't bother to keep track of. "Guidance counselor..." He murmurs under his breath. After a few more moments, Percy stands and clutches one of the straps of his backpack just a bit tighter.

"I guess it couldn't hurt..." He whispers to himself, swallowing down another wave of grief before it can bubble to the surface. His stomach rumbles as he walks towards his destination.

 _Why is he nervous?_

* * *

 **A/N: And chapter 6 is done. Whew! That was... intense.**

 **I think that this will be the saddest chapter (if you even considered it sad) that I'm gonna have to write for a while. Or at least, that's the plan right _now_. It could always change.**

 **Also: Percabeth will finally be meeting very, _very_ soon.**

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


	7. her: gold

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy! (I apologize in advance for this MONSTER of a chapter)**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Gold by Imagine Dragons**

 _"Who can you trust... when everything you touch turns to gold?"_

 **Chapter VII**

 **Annabeth's POV**

 _A favor._

 _She needs a favor._

Annabeth's thoughts careen back and forth between the corners of her mind as Piper lowers herself into the seat across from her own, her fingers still running through her choppy haircut. "Well, what kind of favor do you need from me, Piper?"

The Native huffs and grabs Annabeth's empty thermos, using it as an off brand stress ball without the elasticity. It's a habit that Annabeth has come to recognize as one conceived from frustration. "I really hate to put you in this position, Annabeth. After thinking about it for 4 class periods straight, I see that you have _no_ reason to agree, but I promised him that I would help and-"

Annabeth reaches over the table and plucks her thermos from Piper's grasp. The action leaves the other girl to fall still and let out a frustrated cry after several seconds of silence. Annabeth forces herself to stifle a chuckle as she places the thermos back on the table top out of her friend's reach. "Calm down, Piper."

"You don't understand, Annabeth. I-"

Annabeth feels a blonde eyebrow arch. "Then give me enough reason to understand, McLean. Because right now, all you're doing is raising your blood pressure. And that's beneficial to no one."

Piper makes a face, and suddenly the blonde is under the impression that Piper is a few short breaths away from slamming her forehead into the desk.

"Just tell me, Piper. Please. You're beginning to stress me out." Annabeth's voice shakes with laughter as the Cherokee aims a deathly glare in her direction.

"Okay, okay, okay." She sucks in a deep breath and exhales slowly, her chest rising and falling as her fingers move from her hair to the table top. "There's a friend of mine who's in a really tough spot right now..."

Annabeth shakes her head slightly and juts it forward, her eyes widening just a bit. She motions for her to continue. "And...?

Piper sighs and begins running her fingers through her hair yet again. "I asked him if there was any way that I could help, and he mentioned that he needed a tutor."

Curiosity expands in Annabeth's chest. Her lips purse together. "So why are _you_ here now instead of him? And what makes you think that I wouldn't agree to it? Tutoring is quite _literally_ my source of income."

A nervous look passes over Piper's face. "That's where this favor comes in, Annabeth. He can't afford a tutor. I'm _sure_ of it. That's the only reason why he would ask me about it."

"So to clarify," Annabeth begins. Her vision narrows as her lips purse together a bit tighter, deep in thought. She glances back and forth between the book shelves that surround them. "You want me to tutor this guy- _your friend_ \- for free?" The final word of her statement gains an inflection as her vision widens back to normal and her gaze falls back to the girl in front of her.

Piper nods slowly before she freezes and shakes her head. "No, no, no. _I_ would be the one paying for it. But as far as he would know, your services to him are free, yeah." She cringes. "Okay, I should've used better wording. But you get the point, right?"

Annabeth frowns. "You want me to lie to him?"

"It's not lying."

Her frown deepens. "Lying by omission is still a lie because it is not the truth. The absence-"

"-Of the truth is _still a lie, I know._ " Piper exhales with weight through her nostrils and scratches at the inside of her elbow. "Look, I know I'm putting you in an uncomfortable position by asking you to keep that information from him, but you have to understand, Annabeth. He's a prideful guy, in a way. He doesn't like handouts. And if he knew that I was the one paying for this, he'd stop coming to sessions. I'm not exactly sure what his grades are looking like, but I _won't_ let his pride get in the way of his success. He-" She pauses, swallowing what Annabeth assumes to be a wave of tears. The strength in her voice wavers. "He deserves a break, okay?"

The blonde doesn't fail to notice the slight pity that had entered her friend's tone, and she tries to ignore it despite the nausea that it sends to her stomach. She lets loose a small smile, the corners of her lips tilting upwards. "Well, I can't promise that I will keep it from him. I don't know if I could do that. But..."

 _What does she have to lose?_

She sighs before continuing. "I was never one to get in the way of anyone acquiring knowledge, and I won't be starting now."

Piper's gaze flickers to hers, astonishment and a grin overtaking her facial features. "So you'll do it?"

"Yes, Piper, I'll do it."

 _What does she have to lose?_

The Native girl launches herself over the desk, tackling both of them to the ground. Annabeth wheezes, her arms pinned to her sides, as she tumbles out of her seat and falls against the rough carpet. Piper's grasp tightens around her as she squeezes her kidneys out. " _Gods,_ thank you so much, Annabeth. Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyoutha-"

"Piper McLean, I'm losing oxygen. Please let go before my lungs collapse. _Please_." The blonde barely manages to breathe out weakly. But even so, her words shake with airy laughter.

Her friend detaches herself from the blonde, rubbing the inside of her elbow sheepishly as she helps her up. "Sorry, I got a little excited."

Annabeth hides away her grin as she smooths out the lint from her plaid skirt. She pushes her glasses farther up her nose. "I can see that. You should really be a linebacker. You and Charles Beckendorf would take the town by storm."

Piper cackles with laughter as the pair of girls return to their seats. After a few moments of attempting to sober herself, she finally calms enough to muster out a few words. "You just put me in the best mood, Annabeth. Thank you- for everything."

 _What does she have to lose?_

The 17 year old tries her hardest to keep the heat from emerging in her face as she twists a stray blonde curl between her fingers. "Don't mention it, Piper. Anything I can do to help."

The Cherokee nods, another smile stretching across her face. "So, since it _is_ lunch time-"

Annabeth shakes her head. "No thank you, Piper."

She pouts, folding her arms over her chest as she leans back in her seat. "You don't even know what I was gonna _ask_."

"I do know. And _you_ know I prefer to eat here in the library. That's a cute feather by the way- it compliments your hair well."

Piper reaches upward with a shy smile to touch the beige feather that is braided into her haircut. "Thanks, I wanted to try something new today. One of the women at my moms's women's shelter gave it to me. She said something about-" She cuts off her words, shooting forward in her seat. The girl jabs an accusing finger at her tutor. " _Don't you dare change the subject_."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Annabeth shrugs with a flair of nonchalance. She isn't sure how long she will be able to keep her grin at bay.

Piper exaggerates a sigh. "Annabeth Chase, you are the smartest person I know. You don't get to play dumb like the rest of us." She pauses with a smirk. "It's insulting."

That elicits a sparse chuckle from the blonde.

"Anyways," she continues. "Why do you always say no? Just wondering."

...

 _What does she have to lose?_

Annabeth cocks her head to the side as her stomach rumbles with discomfort. "I just..." She pauses, struggling to find the right words. After several moments of failing, Annabeth sighs heavily and leans against her fist. "Look, Piper, it has nothing against you. I promise."

Her friend's eyes are narrowed, her versicolored irises thin as slits as she picks apart the blonde's phrase. After 6.7 seconds (Annabeth has a knack for precision), she scowls. "It's because of Drew, isn't it?"

Annabeth nods a bit too quickly. "Yeah, it's because of Drew." Her heart skips a beat at her lie.

 _Hypocrite,_ her mind taunts her.

Piper shakes her head. "Ugh. I'm sick of her ruining my friendships." She gestures towards Annabeth. "You wouldn't be the first one that she's scared away, you know. I tried to befriend Pollux Bacchus after his twin died in the hurricane that hit New York last year, and Drew ruined _everything_. Even to this day, Lux wants _nothing_ to do with me." She grabs at her hair in frustration. "It's _maddening_."

"That's..." Annabeth's words fade out as she aims to control the queasiness in her gut. "... _unfortunate_."

Piper rolls her eyes. "Unfortunate doesn't begin to _cover_ it." She then offers the blonde a sad smile. "I'm really sorry about Drew. She..." The Native girl cocks her head to the side as she attempts to explain her sister's behavior. "She isn't _really_ like that, not at home anyways."

The room sinks into silence for several seconds.

Annabeth studies her friend as she evidently loses herself to her own thoughts, her sun-blessed eyes growing faint as they stare at the table top. She leans forward. "Piper?"

Her gaze snaps upward. "Yes?"

"Is everything alright?"

The Cherokee girl waves the question away as if it is a pesky housefly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me." She then pulls out her phone to check the time. "I should probably be leaving now, anyways. There was a cheer meeting today and I skipped it."

Annabeth chuckles. "Aren't you co-captain?"

Piper grins with mischief and shrugs without a hint of apology behind the gesture. "Aren't I? Either way, the past can't be changed. Drew's gonna be pissed and Lena's gonna be disappointed. Pray for me."

"You're horrible."

"Right you are, Annabeth." Piper agrees with a cheeky grin. She stands and pushes her chair gently into the table. "I'll see you around, okay?"

Annabeth nods, twisting a few strands of hair between her fingers. "Yes. I'll see you later." She then watches as Piper fixes her skirt and lopes off, twiddling around with her tie.

The blonde fixes her attention back to her frayed-edged book and reopens its pages. Merely a few moments later, a head pops up in the corner of her vision, curling around the bookshelves. Annabeth looks up. "Did you forget something?"

Piper nods. "Yeah, I forgot to tell you his name."

"What is it?"

"It's Perce-" She pauses briefly before an evil glint flashes into her ever changing irises before it disappears as quickly as it came. " _Perseus_."

Doubt fills Annabeth's stomach, her eyebrows lifting. "Perseus? Are you sure about that?"

Piper's nod in agreement comes a bit too quickly. "I'm positive. His name is Perseus. Anyways, I've gotta go. Bye Annabeth!" Then she vanishes behind the bookshelves once more, snickering lowly as she leaves.

Annabeth leans back in her seat, her gaze shifting between the book shelves absentmindedly as she murmurs to herself. "Perseus..." She pauses, trying the name out several times. For some reason, she enjoys the movements her lips make to form the name. " _Perseus_."

And as it always is when it comes to taking on another student to tutor, Annabeth isn't apprehensive in the slightest. Because after all...

 _What does she have to lose?_

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **After school.**

Annabeth tries not to slam her car door closed as she fumbles to insert the key into the ignition. Her stomach rumbles with nausea as she attempts to start the car and peel out of the parking lot. Her breaths are uneven, struggling to crawl from her lungs to her throat as her fingers shake.

 _She isn't ready for this._ _She isn't supposed to be seeing him so soon._

 _She has to get out of here._

But she isn't fast enough. Annabeth freezes as the passenger door opens and he slips inside. Her grip on her seat belt strap tightens.

"Why are you avoiding me?" His whisper is low enough for Annabeth to hear the disappointment seep into his words.

She keeps her gaze ahead, looking through the windshield and focusing on the stream of students that exit the school building. Some leave in large groups bursting forth like blossoms in spring, others are in pairs of two or groups of three and four. She is stiff. "What are you doing here?"

"Annabeth, _please_ look at me."

"Please, answer my question." Her tone is a bit more curt than she had anticipated, but it's a bit too late to backtrack.

Not that she wants to backtrack, anyways. She owes him _nothing_.

"I had to see you." He responds without missing a beat.

Annabeth turns to him sharply. Her stomach twists at the sight of the ugly bruises that riddle his face. The worst is the lump shaded purple and yellow that swells beneath the skin of his eyebrow. One of his eyes are swollen shut.

She wants to believe that he's wearing a scarf because of the present cool weather and the nearing chill of winter. But the image of her father's hands latched around his throat flashes into her mind and she knows that the weather isn't the reason. She swallows. "You have classes today, Malcolm."

He frowns, his only open eye narrowing a bit as a look of hurt passes over his face. "You're more important than any of my classes, Buttercup. You know that."

 _Yes, I do._

She looks down at her uniform skirt; she cannot bear to look at the swollen lumps and bruises that mar his face. "That's not a good enough answer. How did you even get here? There's no way it's legal for you to drive in... in the _state_ that you're in right now."

Malcolm scoffs. "I took a Lyft. Annabeth, look at me."

"I can't." She says.

 _I don't want to_ , she doesn't say.

"Annabeth. I'm _sorry_." He urges.

"Are you?" She speaks to the black and purple patterned fabric covering her thighs. The design of the clothing is suddenly the most intriguing thing in the world.

"Don't... _do_ that. _Don't do that._ " Malcolm pleads. Through her peripheral vision she can see that he's grasping at the roots of his curly honey-blond hair with a free hand. "You _have_ to accept my apology, Annabeth."

Although small, the anger that flares up within her is enough to have her swiveling her attention back towards her brother. Bile churns in her stomach as she once again catches sight of the remnants of his fight. Her anger is killed off. "Why do I have to accept it, Malcolm?"

He turns towards her, his eye swimming with tears. "You're closing off on me, I can feel it. I can't let that happen. I won't let it happen."

Her arms fold across her chest. "And why is that?"

Malcolm wipes at his eye with a bandaged hand. "As of right now, you are the only person who I can talk to. And I know that it's the same for you."

"You're wrong." Her frown is accompanied with a lie. "I still have others to talk to." She then hurries on, focusing the subject on him so that he won't be able to sniff out her bullshit. "What do you mean I'm all you have? What about Mother?"

Malcolm shakes his head before leaning back. He stares at the ceiling. "She saw my face and told me not to step foot back into the building until the bruises are all completely healed."

Guilt expands in her chest as Annabeth recalls the sentiments she had about his wounds just moments before. "She doesn't-"

"- _Want to see me_ , no." Malcolm swallows. "At all."

Annabeth feels her eyes widening, her hands grasping for her older brother's shoulders. "Wait, _at all_? But don't you live with her?"

"She kicked me out." He says to the ceiling of the Jeep. "I've been staying with a friend. His name's Lee Fletcher. You remember him, right?"

"It's not like I could forget." Annabeth mutters mostly to herself.

The car is then plunged into silence for longer than Annabeth is comfortable with. "Malcolm, I-"

He cuts her off, shooting forward in his seat and bringing his clenched fist down onto the dashboard. " _It's ridiculous!_ " He cries out.

Annabeth places a hand on his fist and removes it from the dashboard, encircling both of her palms around it until he calms and leans back into his seat. Malcolm sighs and she threads her fingers around his bandaged ones. "What's ridiculous, Mack?"

He sighs again before turning towards her. "The fact that the reason I even _got_ these bruises was because I was defending her." He scoffs and turns his head until his gaze is pouring through the windshield. "Her rat's ass of an ex-husband was practically dragging her name through the mud and I _defended_ _her._ " His hand tightens around Annabeth's. "And now she doesn't even want to _see_ me."

"It's more than ridiculous," the younger of the two agrees. Malcolm glances at her. "We have horrible parents, Mack. _Horrible_ parents. This... circumstances like this one is more than enough proof of that." Annabeth then frowns and gestures roughly towards the scarf that is tightly woven around his neck. " _Just look at your neck, Malcolm_."

Anger flares within her as she tugs at the scarf with her free hand. "My father," she begins.

 _Tug._

"Is a grown man in his late 40's."

 _Another tug._

"And yet he still had the _audacity_ ,"

 _Another tug._

"To put his hands on _you._ "

 _Tug._

"Someone who isn't even _twenty years old_ yet _._ "

 _Tug. Tug. Tug._

The scarf unravels and wilts into Malcolm's lap.

 _Oh my god._

Annabeth gasps at the sickening sight of the nearly black splotches of swollen skin that litter her brother's neck. The finger shaped bruises enclose around the entire circumference, but the worst of the damage is done at his Adam's Apple.

Malcolm swallows in shame as Annabeth reaches forward, nearly touching his skin until she freezes. Her outstretched fingers hover above the wounds and her heart is struck. "Oh, Malcolm." Her voice wavers. "I... I'm _so sorry_." She retracts her hand and presses it against her mouth, pursing her lips and trying not to let the tears fall. "I didn't know it was this _bad_."

Her older brother hurries to cover the bruises back up, snaking the scarf around his neck until bit by bit, they all disappear behind the dark grey material. "You shouldn't be the one apologizing, Buttercup." His smile is kind, but his eyes dance in grief. "I should. I'm just as in the wrong as he is. We provoked each other. It's what I de-"

 _"Please_ don't say that you deserved this, Malcolm. No one is deserving of pain, no matter what they've done." The 17 year old frowns, gingerly cupping her brother's face. She gazes into his iron gray eyes that match his scarf. "Your apology is accepted, okay?"

He nods, wincing as he swallows. "Okay. Okay... thank you."

Annabeth leans over the center console and pulls him into a hug, burrowing her face into his scarf. "I'm sorry for trying to avoid you, I-"

He cuts her off, his hand tightening on her opposite shoulder. "Don't." He begs her softly.

And so she doesn't. Despite her better nature.

Once they detach themselves from each other, Malcolm orders another Lyft to take him back to New York City. As they wait, they discuss everything to take their minds off the wounds that he sports, both emotional and physical.

And when Malcolm parts with one last goodbye and a gentle kiss on her temple, Annabeth is reminded that she _does_ have someone to talk to.

Someone other than her brother.

Someone that she hasn't spoken to in a very long time.

She pulls out her phone and dials the number before she can second guess what she's about to do. But right as her thumb hovers over the call symbol, logic catches up with her and doubt fills her stomach.

But Annabeth quickly attempts to ignore the doubt and presses the call symbol.

 _What does she have to lose?_

The doubt quickly resurfaces when the call is accepted. Her hand shakes as she slowly lifts the phone to her ear. Her stomach rumbles.

"Hello? Annabeth? Is it really you?" The voice is saying.

Annabeth again tries to ignore the doubt as she answers with a biggest smile that she can muster. "Yes, yes, it's me. Sorry about that."

 _What does she have to lose?_

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Cafe. 50 minutes later.**

"I still can't believe that you called me." She grins from across the table. "It's been what, a year and a half? Maybe two?"

"It's been a year and eight months." Annabeth corrects out of reflex. She blushes deeply. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's nice to see that you're still the same." Her grin widens as she props a leg up on the seat of the booth and balances her elbow against her knee. "Your hair is longer."

Annabeth sighs as she reaches for her pale tresses. "It needs a haircut." She insists.

"Don't be moronic, Anna. It's fine. _You're fine_." Her electric blue eyes brighten as she waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

The blonde shakes her head. "Don't call me that, Thalia. You know how I feel about that name."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. _Only Luke can call you that_." She bends her fingers as she shakes her head. "I never did understand why you always gave that moron special treatment. I was the cooler one, anyways." She picks up a fake piece of lint off her name tag and flicks it away.

Annabeth tries to keep her stomach from rumbling at the mention of _him_. "Well... I guess you're right about that."

Her older friend grins as she shoots forward in her seat. "Wait, really? Fuck yes!" She pumps a fist in the air with glee. "Wait 'till I tell that toad-skinned sapsucker! I'm the _cooler_ one. Me, Thalia Grace!" She leans back in her seat and takes another sip of her black coffee. "It's what I deserve, naturally."

Annabeth cocks her head to the side. "You still talk to- Luke?" She hesitates briefly before forcing herself to say his name.

Thalia looks up from her mug. "Me? Nah." She shakes her head before giving way to another eye roll. "I still can't reach him. No one can, from what I've heard."

"Did the cops-"

"I don't know, Annabeth." Thalia cuts her off with a shrug. "Let's just... drop it for now, okay?"

The blonde nods, her stomach rumbling despite the fact that her heart is dancing to the tune of relief. "Alright, we'll drop it."

"Good." Thalia smiles. "Now," She pauses to take another sip of her coffee before setting her mug down and narrowing her eyes at her. Her electric irises are slits. "Why exactly did you call me? Because it's been a bit too long for this," she waves at the space between them. "To simply be catching up. What do you need?"

Annabeth releases the tension between her shoulder blades. "I forgot how observant you are." She murmurs to herself.

Thalia takes another sip of untainted coffee. "Don't mock me, Chase. We both know that's not possible. Now spill the beans."

The seventeen year old pokes her honey bun with her fork. "I don't even know where to begin, honestly. I guess it's because..." She trails off before regaining her train of thought and fixating her gaze on her blue eyed friend. Thalia looks on in interest. Annabeth shrugs. "So much has happened these last few days, and I didn't know who to turn to."

Thalia arches an eyebrow. "I'm the only one? What about that brother of yours?"

Annabeth shakes her head. "I was just with him. And Malcolm... has enough on his plate right now."

Her friend nods, understanding. "Ahh, so your mother is being a bitch again. Right?"

"Thalia..." Annabeth sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, was I wrong? So it must be your dad who's being a bitch again. _Now_ am I right?"

"It's both of them." Annabeth shakes her head and forces a bite of pastry into her mouth. The food feels like clay against her tongue, but she forces herself to swallow.

Thalia frowns. "Both of them? Geez, what happened this time?"

Annabeth pushes her plate away from her. "It was a chain of events, really. My parents are both being insufferable right now but their actions aren't directly correlated. My mother's actions were a result of my father's." She shakes her head again and leans against her fist, pursing her lips together.

"Would you mind talking about it? Or would you rather hear about the latest fiascoes that's gone down at the women's shelter?" Thalia smiles.

 _What does she have to lose?_

"Yeah, I'll talk about it." The blonde nods.

The older of the two gestures for her to continue.

Annabeth sighs and leans over the table, exhaustion pulling on her limbs. She pokes her honey bun again with her fork and begins. "Well, to make the story incredibly short... my dad and Malcolm got into a really heated argument last night."

"How did it happen?" Thalia's eyebrows crinkle.

Annabeth scoffs. "It was my dad's fault. He brought up Malcolm's internship."

"Your father's character amounts to several pieces of dog shit. Sorry not sorry." The black haired girl growls, roughly sipping her coffee.

"I know it does." Annabeth agrees. "After he mentioned his internship, Malcolm inevitably tried to fight back and brought up our mother."

Thalia mutters a curse under her breath. "Why would he do that? He _knows_ how Frederick feels about your mom. And you were _in the room_ , what the hell is wrong with him?"

Annabeth shrugs, simply detached from the entire situation. "He was angry, Thals."

"Blue looking eyes and all?"

"Blue looking eyes and all." The blonde confirms. She continues. "Malcolm brought up our mother, and of course that angered my father. My dad told Mack not to speak about our mother, and Malcolm called him a coward. Then he threw a knife at him and cut off a piece of his earlobe."

Thalia chokes on her blackberry pastry. " _What_?" She wheezes, reaching for her coffee. "Are you serious?"

Annabeth nods, swallowing thickly as the events of last night begin to return. The screams, the glass shattering against the wooden floors, the chairs squeaking and groaning as they are knocked backwards and out of the way, the roars- "I'm serious." She halts her own train of thought before it can fester detrimental. "And of course, Dad retaliated. He started to strangle Malcolm."

She watches as her friend's eyes widen before they grow small with hate. "And what happened after that?"

Annabeth shrugs. "I don't know. I left after that. I ran out of the house and just... _drove_."

"I'm going to be honest, Annabeth." Thalia begins with a frown. "I really don't like the thought of you living in that house. Does Helen still hit your dad when they argue?"

The blonde swallows again as her eyes sting. "Almost daily." She nods. Thalia's frown deepens, but before she can continue Annabeth hurries on. "It's not like I like living there either, Thalia. I know it sucks there, I _know_."

"Then why don't you move out? You're still tutoring, right? Surely you've made enough money now to get an apartment." Her friend suggests.

Annabeth shakes her head. "I can't leave my little brothers by themselves, Thalia. _I can't_. God, Helen gets so flat out drunk sometimes... I'm scared that one day she'll focus her anger on the twins instead of me or my dad and she'll do something that she'll regret. She's so _poisonous_ , and my dad is just... _detached-_ " Annabeth forces herself to pause, stabbing her honey bun with her fork before continuing and flickering her gaze into the blue irises of her friend. "I can't leave them there. And besides," Annabeth continues. "I couldn't get my own apartment. I just turned seventeen before the school year started. I'm still a minor."

Thalia folds her arms over her chest. "I hope you don't expect me to believe that Malcolm would leave you in there, either."

Annabeth pulls her fork from her pastry before touching it to her lips and licking the sweetness off. "He wants me to move in with him, but I declined."

"And why is that?"

"He lives in New York City." She deadpans before continuing on. "It's too far for me to go to school here, and there's no way that I'd move out there. I'm not made for the big city."

Thalia smiles. "I guess this tiny ass town is good enough for you, yeah?"

Annabeth gives her a funny look. "I didn't say that."

Her friend cackles, her eyes crackling with electricity as her midnight black hair falls into her face. " _Gods,_ Annabeth, I missed you."

She smiles. "I missed you too, Thalia."

"Well, I wish for nothing but strength on your part." The blue eyed girl calms as she stares into Annabeth's face. "I wish for nothing but happiness on your part during these last few months leading up to graduation."

Annabeth purses her lips, attempting to hide her smile. She nods in acceptance.

Thalia huffs, pressing her palm against her forehead. " _Gods_ , I can _not_ believe that you're about to graduate already. I remember when you were that dorky little kid who played the piano better than John Legend and hid behind her gigantic glasses." She then glances at Annabeth, who sheepishly pushes her glasses farther up her face. "Well, half of that is still happening, I guess. But what I'm trying to say is that _y_ _ou can do it,_ Annabeth. You're the most capable girl I've ever known- and I'm saying that with Diana ar Temis as my boss."

The blonde's chest fills with warmth as she smiles, attempting to hide away the rouge shade that's invaded her face. "Thank you, Thals. That... _really_ means a lot to me. You have no idea."

Thalia grins and takes another sip of coffee. "I know I mentioned it earlier, but how's tutoring going?"

Annabeth groans. "That's another thing that I've got to tell you about."

The 20 year old's smile vanishes. "Why? What happened?" Her words drape themselves in a concerned tone.

Annabeth takes another bite of her honey bun despite the fact that she doesn't like it and swallows, ignoring the after taste. "It's nothing bad, I _suppose_. But..."

"But...?"

She sighs and leans against her fist. "I'm taking on another student tomorrow."

Thalia exhales in relief before frowning. "What the hell is the problem with that? You had me _scared_ , Chase. _Shit._ " She takes another sip of black coffee before biting down on her pastry.

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "I specifically remember saying that it wasn't anything bad."

"You specifically remember everything." Thalia retorts. "Continue on with your predicament, ma'am."

The blonde chuckles before finishing off the last few sips of her caramel pumpkin spiced tea. "I haven't even met him yet."

"...Well then how do you know that you're tutoring him tomorrow? Does he know?"

"That's the thing about it, Thalia." Annabeth begins. "His friend is paying his fee for him."

The older of the two whistles. "His friend is definitely a real one, then. I don't think I would pay the fee for myself."

The blonde laughs softly. "You're ridiculous."

"I prefer the term comedically gifted, thanks. But I'm still not seeing the problem here, Annabeth."

She sighs, sinking her fork into her honey bun once again. "He doesn't know that the fee is being paid for him. As far as he knows, it's free. His friend wants me to lie to him, and I don't know how long I can keep that up. He deserves to know."

Thalia thinks for a moment before responding. "If he did know... would that affect his tutoring sessions?"

Annabeth swallows. "The friend says that he would stop showing up... but I don't think anyone could be that prideful, right? Not even _I'm_ that prideful."

"Well, you can never know. Do you want my advice?"

"Of course I do." The blonde smiles softly, twisting a curl of her hair between her fingers. "You know that I do."

Thalia leans against the window and kicks up her feet along the length of her side of the booth. "My advice would be to get to know the guy first. You're good at reading people. Don't tell him until you're sure that he won't stop showing up. And if you never are sure... well, what he doesn't know can't hurt him."

Annabeth nods and sighs. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She still doesn't like it.

"Thalia Grace always is." Her raven haired friend shrugs, fiddling her napkin into an abstract origami shape.

"Please stop referring to yourself in third person. You know it creeps me out." Annabeth leans backwards and tries not to appear repulsed.

The 20 year old grins with a ghost of faux malice hovering over her lips. "That's the only reason why Thalia Grace does it."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and gestures towards her friend. "Didn't you have fiascoes to discuss with me?" She aims for distraction.

She succeeds. Thalia's eyes widen as she leans forward, her feet steadying themselves against the floor and her palms slamming into the table. "Ugh, I have so much to tell you."

"Well then, go ahead." Annabeth chuckles, pressing her elbows into the table to fixate her chin onto her fists. "I'd love to hear about the stuff that goes down at that place."

"Okay, okay, okay, so this is a really long story. Are you ready for it?" Thalia grins.

"You know I am, Thalia. Now hurry up."

"Alright, alright. No need to get all _fussy_ now. I know you haven't had your nap since you were 12." Her friend snickers. "Anyways, it all started when Ella stole the last of Ms. Dodds's tampons."

"Oh my..."

"I know, right? And that's just the beginning. Now, here's how it went..."

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **At home.**

"You're home late."

Annabeth kicks off her shoes and turns around to see her stepmother clutching an unopened bottle of vodka at the entrance of the kitchen. She forces herself to remain poker faced. "I didn't realize I have a curfew."

Helen shrugs and walks back into the kitchen. For a reason that she cannot decipher, Annabeth follows. She arrives just in time to see her stepmother place a wine glass on the center island and pop open the bottle of liquor with expertise. Even from her position several feet away, Annabeth's nose is hit with the stench as her nostrils sting.

"You don't have a curfew, Annabeth." Helen quips after downing a gulp of alcohol. "I was simply making a statement." She refills her glass. "It's simply... unusual."

The room is overtaken by silence and Annabeth studies her. Really studies her.

Her stepmother's face has hallowed, with brutal cheekbones and a thin nose that accommodate her upwards-slanted eyes. And for a moment, Annabeth sees the Helen that she used to know; the Helen from her childhood.

The Helen with the fuller face and the kinder eyes and the red highlights streaked through her hickory hair.

But then the image flickers and Annabeth is rushed back to the present and she finds herself staring back at the bitter woman standing in her kitchen.

The Helen from the present.

The Helen with the bone straight hair and bitter eyes and poisoned smile stretching from small, puckered lips.

"So... where were you?" Helen's dark eyes pierce Annabeth's over the rim of the glass as she takes another drink.

"Out with a friend. We were just catching up." Her response is vague. Her skin begins to itch underneath her stepmother's harsh stare.

The Asian woman's gaze flickers to the clock on the oven. It's just past 8 o clock. She turns back to Annabeth with an arched eyebrow. "You were catching up for 5 hours?" The woman chuckles without humor. "Must've been some friend, then." Her words are accusing, but her tone is not.

Annabeth tries her hardest not to feel hurt. She turns to leave.

Helen empties her glass before refilling it, already on her way to getting drunk. "There's dinner for you in the fridge." She calls out to Annabeth.

The blonde turns, surprise expanding in her gut as her eyebrows furrow. "Pardon?"

Her stepmother rolls her eyes. "Food, Annabeth. There's food for you in the fridge. From dinner." She hiccups into her fist before continuing. " _Bobby insisted_." She doesn't try to hide her disdain from her words before rolling her eyes again and stalking off. "Turn off the lights when you're done."

"Yes, I will. Thank... thank you." Annabeth calls after her, bewilderment still lacing her words.

Helen grunts in response and disappears into the living room, where she will spend the rest of the night in front of the television guzzling alcohol and cursing out reality tv characters.

Annabeth walks to the fridge, opening it to see a plate of food covered in saran wrap. Her stomach rumbles, and it is only then that she realizes that all she had eaten that day was her pistachios and a few bites of her honey bun at the cafe. She reaches for the food and unravels the plastic, hunger gripping her gut with a vengeance.

Steamed rice, shrimp, green beans, and a bit of grilled chicken stare back at her. The blonde cannot keep her mouth from watering as she heats up the food and carries it to her room once the microwave beeps.

She practically inhales it all, trying to savor every bite with gratefulness. But her hunger gets the best of her. She finishes it before the hour turns.

Annabeth quickly sheds her school uniform and pulls on a pair of boxers and a large shirt, getting ready to go to bed. She grabs the empty plate and heads towards the kitchen to wash it and put it away.

On her way back, she stops by the twins' bedroom door.

 _Bobby insisted_. Helen's voice whispers across her mind.

Emotion tugs on her heartstrings as she lifts her fist to knock on the door.

 _What does she have to lose?_

The door opens a few moments later. It's Bobby. From behind him, Annabeth can see that the bedroom is dark except for the brightly lit television screen. They're watching a movie, it seems.

"Annabeth?" Bobby rubs his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Bobby." Annabeth smiles down at her younger brother. "Thank you."

He frowns, his blond waves falling into his eyes before he brushes them back. "For what?" He pauses. "Wait, do you mean the food?"

Annabeth nods. "Yes. Thank you."

He shrugs. "It's no problem, I guess. Everyone deserves to eat, right?"

The seventeen year old grins and pulls her brother into a hug. He's taller than Matthew despite being the "younger one" of the pair. The top of his head nearly touches her ear. Annabeth holds him tight, ignoring the fact that he smells heavily of AXE and B.O.

When they pull away, she holds his cheek, her thumb stroking the little freckles that dapple his face. She presses a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you, Bobby."

"B, hurry up, dude! You're missing the best part. The bee just stung the dude's butt _in court._ I think he's about to die." Matthew's voice calls from somewhere within the twins' room.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Bobby responds. He turns back to Annabeth and smiles. "I love you too, sis. I gotta go now, though."

Annabeth pulls her hand away. "Yeah, I know. Goodnight, Bobby."

"Goodnight." He nods. Then he disappears back into his room and shuts the door. As she walks away, Annabeth can hear his frustrated cry. " _Dude, just rewind it."_

And she smiles a bit to herself, remembering the very words that she had spoken to Thalia just hours before.

No, she wouldn't ever be able to leave them.

Annabeth slips into her bed and shuts off her light, staring at the full moon that glows pale against the night sky.

She'll just have to hang on for a few more months.

 _What does she have to lose?_

* * *

 **The next morning.**

Her eyes snap open. Something isn't right. Annabeth can feel it.

Her clock says that it's just past 6:20, but something is off.

...

It only takes a few moments before it hits her.

 _The house is silent a_ _nd it's a Friday morning._

Annabeth sits up in her bed immediately, confusion filling her stomach as she listens for the usual scuffle that takes place on the ground floor every morning. But instead, she's greeted with silence.

It's unnerving.

She clutches her bed sheets, balling them up a bit in her fists as she stares out of the window. The vacancy of sound that fills the house leaves her only a little bit hopeful.

But after several minutes that are wasted away from waiting for an argument to start in the rooms beneath, the blonde decides to finally get out of bed and begin her morning routine.

Even after she brushes her teeth and showers, the only sounds that fill the house are the occasional bumps against the wall that comes from Bobby and Matthew's bedroom as they get ready for the day. Annabeth towels off and gets dressed, trying to ease her mind onto different subjects.

Her phone vibrates with an incoming text, startling her from the abruptness. The seventeen year old practically dives for her phone, clutching it within her hands as she stares down at the screen.

 **Perseus is gonna meet you at your usual spot in the library at lunch. - Piper**

Annabeth's heart sinks into the pits of her gut as small flicks of anxiety and apprehension flutter around in her chest. "Another thing I have to worry about." She mutters to herself as she absentmindedly slicks her hair into a lower ponytail than usual.

 _As if she had truly forgotten about her newest student, anyways._

The blonde decides to keep her usual vests and cardigans at home today, tucking her blouse into her skirt and slipping into her worn black flats. She grabs her glasses from their position on the bed side table and slides them onto her face, ignoring the fact that she doesn't really need to wear her glasses.

Annabeth slugs her backpack over her shoulder and steps towards the door, until a thought that scrambles across her conscious freezes her in her gait. She glances at her phone before quickly sinking onto her bed and dialing her brother's phone number.

It rings 8 times.

It goes to voice mail.

Annabeth frowns and dials again. "Come on, Mack..." She urges him from the other side of the phone, as if he can hear her. "Pick up. Pick up."

It rings eight more times and goes to voice mail.

Annabeth groans and flops backwards on her bed, tossing her arm over her eyes so that her nose is fixed into the crook of her elbow. "Ugh. The one time _I_ seek _him_ out and he doesn't even want to pick up the phone. Typical." After a few moments of wasting even more time, the seventeen year old rolls over onto her stomach and reopens Piper's message. She stares at it.

She doesn't like the rumbling that it sends to her stomach.

The blonde grimaces, sitting up once again and staring out of her window for the umpteenth time. "What are you doing, Annabeth? Wasting time isn't going to prevent _anything_. It only prolongs the inevitable." She scolds herself. "You're better than-"

A knock at her door interrupts her monologue. "Annabeth!" The voice is Matthew's.

"Come in," she responds over her shoulder. She turns, her head cocking in curiosity and her lips pursing.

The door opens enough for her younger brother to lean in. For some reason, the things that Annabeth can focus on are the mole that sits under his right eye and the fact that his nose is just as thin as his mother's and his skin is almost as pale. As usual, his face is stoic. "We need to leave soon." He says.

Annabeth nods and stands. "Okay, thank you for reminding me."

He grunts and turns to go.

The older girl reaches out for him despite the fact that he's too far away. "Matthew, wait."

He stops and looks at her over his shoulder, barely turning his head. Annabeth tries her hardest not to feel hurt. "What?" His tone is the ice that sank the Titanic.

She swallows, earlier prepared to ask the question, but now second guessing.

 _Does she really want to know the answer?_

Matthew sighs heavily and rolls his eyes as he turns around fully. "What is it, Annabeth?" He asks again, his dark eyes tightening.

 _What does she have to lose?_

Annabeth slips on her backpack yet again and twists a curl of hair from her ponytail between her fingers. "Where's Dad?"

Her younger brother shrugs. "D'unnno. Out, I guess. He left after dinner last night and didn't come back. They had another fight."

A pang of worry expands in the seventeen year old's chest. _That explains a lot._ She motions for him to walk out the door, following suit. "And your mom?"

Matthew rolls his eyes again and scoffs as if she had asked the most moronic question on the face of the Earth. "Where else would she be? She's passed out on the couch."

Annabeth has to fight the reproach from entering her words as the pair walk through the hallway, heading towards the stairs that lead to the ground floor. "I see. One of you disposed the bottle, right?"

He grunts before answering, tracing his fingers along the polished banister. "Yeah, Bobby's the one who found her. He already tossed it into the recycling bin outside."

"Good."

"Whatever." Matthew spins to look up at her, his eyebrows furrowing again. "Can we leave now?"

"Yes. You and Bobby can go to the garage. I'm just going to grab some pistachios and a cup of coffee." Annabeth agrees, smiling down at him in spite of the frown that he sends her way.

Her brother doesn't even respond to her as he walks away, calling for Bobby and heading towards the garage. The blonde distracts herself from the hurt by grabbing her usual pack of seasoned breakfast and quickly using the Keurig to make herself a coffee. And soon enough, she's seated behind the wheel and pulling out of the garage, heading towards the rest of her day.

Towards her new student who she'll have to be dishonest with.

 _It's not like you can hit a lower point anyways,_ her mind taunts her. _What do you have to lose?_

Annabeth grips the steering wheel just a bit tighter.

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Lunch time. In the library.**

She's trying her hardest to disallow the nausea assaulting the pits of her stomach to strengthen. Truly, she is. But when Annabeth turns another page of her copy of _Your's Truly, Atlantis,_ and her eyes merely skim over the words, she knows her mind is elsewhere. She is mortified that she doesn't register any of the work of art that sits between her fingers at her own disposal.

Every second that ticks by is another second spent ready to shred her hair from apprehension.

 _What does she have to lose?_

 _...Her dignity and pride._

The blonde is nearly ready to have a fit. She sips on her caramel tea, hands shaking, and cleans her glasses five times, fingers trembling. She forces herself to calm down.

Ten more minutes pass.

It doesn't work.

 _What does she have to lose?_

"Calm down, Annabeth." She scolds herself, leaning farther into her seat. She purposefully slouches as she murmurs. "It's just a new student. What exactly are you getting yourself worked up over?" The blonde then sighs, sitting up and pinching the bridge of her nose. She focuses her gaze on the table top, her fingers twisting and bending her stray pale curls of hair. Her mind wanders.

A dark shadow passes over the table the same moment that her nostrils pick up the scent of salt water and cinnamon brown sugar.

She stills immediately.

"I don't mean to sound creepy or anything, but... are you Annabeth Chase? My new tutor?" The voice is deep; rich and low in octave. Annabeth instantly recognizes it as the one that she had heard just days before when she was curled up on the bleachers in the gym.

She forces herself to look up, her heart slamming against her ribs and her lips stretching into the most artificial smile she's ever pulled. But that smile falters the very moment she cranes her neck and catches sight of the blackest hair she's ever seen. A stormy pair of deep green irises that are the brightness of the glares upon ocean waves stare down at her expectantly.

Annabeth swallows in a manner that she hopes is undetectable as she nods and gestures for him to sit down.

"Yes, I am she." She smiles, tilting her head. "Your new tutor."

 _What does she have to lose?_

* * *

 **A/N: And here is chapter 7! I hope you enjoyed it! I really have no idea why this chapter is as long as it is.** **8.8k words. I'm literally shaking.**

 **But Percabeth finally met (even if it was only brief *evil laugh*)! Yay :)**

 **Thanks for reading! And thanks to all who review!** **Your words mean so much to me :))**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


	8. his: birds

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Birds by Imagine Dragons**

 _"Oh... I hope to see you again"_

 **Chapter VIII**

 **Percy's POV**

Percy hoists himself out of the icy, morning-plagued water. He draws in sharp breaths of air reflexively, the scent of chlorine filling his nostrils. His ears ring with the sounds of splashing water and his heart beats rhythmically to the thumps of his incoming headache, but the airy lightness that fills his chest as a result is worth it.

Swimming always fills his chest with that lightness.

 _Being around water did._

"Yes, Jackson! That's _exactly_ what I'm talking about!" Coach Triton's applause fills his ears as he fully steps out of the water, droplets beginning to pool at his feet.

The swimmer nods in appreciation as he walks towards his towel lying on the bleachers; the action is sheepish. "Thanks, Coach."

Triton lifts his hand in response and sends Percy a smile, angling his head towards the locker room. "You can hit the showers now, Percy. You've done your set already."

He tears off his goggles and heads towards the aforementioned man, his eyebrows knitting. "You sure, Coach?" Percy glances at the rest of his teammates swimming back and forth through the pool, their limbs like knives slicing through the water. Several of them look prepared to drown. Guilt grips him. "I could always do another lap or-"

His coach shakes his head, fingers poised to lift his whistle to his lips. His gaze grows stern. "You put in the work already, Percy. Go get ready for class."

 _What does he have to lose?_

Percy gives him another questioning look before shrugging and giving way to the idea. "Okay. I'll see you later, Coach."

"I'll see you later, Percy."

The black haired student tosses his towel over his shoulder, swinging his drenched goggles around his nimble fingers as he walks towards the showers. He swallows once he reaches his own locker and pulls out his phone, checking the time.

It's barely 6:20 am.

"Jesus, Percy," he mutters to himself. "What are you on? Crack? You've never finished this early bef-"

His inner monologue is cut short by the vibrations of his phone, signaling him of an incoming text. He opens it without bothering to check who it's from. Percy's eyes scan the screen.

 **Her name is Annabeth Chase. You can find her at lunch in the library. She's usually towards the back by the TA work room. - Pipes Mickey**

Nervousness flutters in his gut as he quickly sends her thanks, his thumbs moving as fast as his heartbeat. Percy tosses his phone back into his locker and grabs his other towel before heading towards the showers.

 _Annabeth Chase._

He quickly scrubs the scent of chlorine and accomplishment from his brown skin as he stands under the flow of water, his mind moving at the same speed as his now-present headache. He reels.

"Tutor..." He whispers to the ceiling tiles above. "You have a tutor now, Jackson." A humorless chuckle forces its way past his lips. "Who would've thought?" The black haired student pauses and swallows, disappointment churning with the bile in his gut. " _Who would've thought?_ "

He remains silent for the rest of his shower, his chest and stomach in a constant state of unrest as he begins drying off after getting out. He slides on a pair of boxers just as the locker room door bangs open and a crowd of swimmers rush through.

Dakota Bacchi leads the pack, his eyes wet with tears of exhaustion as he heads straight for his locker. Connor Stoll, Octavian Augur, Ethan Nakamura, and a few others trail behind him with speed. Their eyes pool with frustration.

The younger of the Stoll brothers disappears into a shower stall, crying out with indignation lacing his tone as the pressured water begins thundering against the floor tiles. " _I hate this fucking sport!_ "

Percy pulls on his chinos, eyebrow arching as he watches Dakota fumble around in his locker in the attempt to make another bottle of Kool-Aid. "Dramatic much?" He zips up his fly and leans against his locker, arms folding over his chest.

Dakota chugs down half of his drink, his lips already staining red. His bright blue eyes tighten as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The sugar addict burps, then. "You don't get to talk, Jackson. Coach let you leave early." He gives him a once over in faux distaste. "For _some_ reason."

Octavian scoffs under his breath from his position a few lockers down. Percy decides to ignore the skinny scarecrow-familiar blond as he pulls his button down from his locker and turns back to his friend. "I think we all know the reason, 'Kota." He smirks halfheartedly.

Dakota finishes off his Kool-Aid before reaching into his own locker to pull out another water bottle and an unopened packet of powdered juice. He shakes his head, his purple-black hair falling into his eyes. Water droplets cascade everywhere. " _Favoritism_. That's the reason, Jackson. 'Cuzza favoritism." He tears open the Kool-Aid packet with his teeth.

Percy chuckles as he sleeves on his uniform shirt, concealing the inky marks that line his skin. His nervousness is temporarily forgotten. "I never knew favoritism means ' _actual swimming skills_ ' now. Huh." He grins as he buttons up his shirt. "You learn something new every day, right?"

Dakota laughs out loud as he shakes his water bottle in one hand. With the other, he manages to open several packets of sugar. "Alright, no need to be a douche about it." He pauses to empty the sugar into his juice before he resumes shaking it. "We get it already."

Connor emerges from the shower, a towel secured around his waist as he heads towards his locker. "What is it that we get?"

The black haired student chuckles to himself as he pulls on his socks and his weathered black Converse, his fingers begin to manipulate the laces into the knots he prefers.

The one with the Kool-Aid burps yet again as he motions towards Percy. He begins to get dressed. "That Jackson's a half-fish."

Connor nods in agreement. "Oh, yeah, definitely. Don't even know why this _Aquaman wannabe_ even bothers with goggles."

Percy rolls his eyes as he stands, reaching into his locker to grab his backpack and swim bag. "Jealousy is a disease. Get well soon, ladies." He waves them goodbye as he starts for the locker room door. If he had the motivation to, he would've gone as far as to blow them several mock kisses.

"At least tell us where you're hiding your gills, Percy! It's called common courtesy!" Dakota calls after him.

The eighteen year old shakes his head as he pushes through the exit. "It's up my ass and around the corner, Bacchi. Find it yourself."

His friend's response is nearly drowned out by snickers, but Percy manages to hear it. "Ugh, fame really changed you, Jackson. You're so _rude_."

Percy merely grins to himself.

* * *

The school hallways are silent as he arrives at his real locker. His arms are poised to toss his swim bag inside and hope for the best.

Rising sunlight filters through the large windows that line the walls, casting dark shadows over the white and violet speckled linoleum tiles.

The black haired student leans forward, pressing both palms against the metal trim of his locker. His chest shudders with a sigh as queasiness bubbles in his gut, his headache thumping in tune with his heart beat. " _Annabeth Chase,_ " he whispers to himself. " _Annabeth Chase_." His tongue flicks behind the top row of his teeth.

For a reason, he likes the way the name pulls his lips into directions that it's never done before.

The way he tries out a new series of sounds.

Percy doesn't know how long he's leaned over, trying to combat the nausea from overtaking his abdomen as he murmurs his tutors name over and over. He flinches when a hand reaches around to touch his shoulder. The swimmer slams his locker shut before he spins and clenches his fists, already positioning himself to deliver an upper cut.

And then he stills, catching sight of familiar eyes and a nervous smile. She hides behind her hands, her shoulders tense.

" _Jesus Christ_ ," He breathes, swallowing thickly as he sinks his hand into his damp hair. Percy leans against his closed locker, his heart rate calming a degree. "You scared the shit out of me."

Hazel slowly emerges from behind her hands, her smile gradually widening. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you." Her tone is light as she rocks on the balls of her feet.

Percy takes note of the fact that she's dressed in her dance uniform. "Did you have early morning practice today or something? What're you even doing here?"

The younger girl huffs slightly, her cheeks puffing up as she rubs the back of her ankle with her foot. "Kind of. Coachella has a flight later today, so she wasn't gonna make it to practice." Hazel shrugs. "She wanted to meet me here before she leaves so she could teach me the basics of our next group routine."

The swimmer nods, remembering that he had heard of a sophomore being the captain of the varsity dance squad. His eyebrows then knit together. "Coachella? You know someone named Coachella?"

Hazel laughs, her hands lifting to cover her mouth as she tilts her head backwards. " _No_ , oh my god, _no_." She cackles. Then, after a few moments spent trying to sober herself, she manages to respond. " _Coach Hylla._ Her name is Coach _Hylla._ " She shakes her head before continuing. " _Coachella_." She pauses again to swallow down a laugh. "But... we do call her Coachella sometimes."

Percy nods.

Silence grows between them, thickening the air with awkwardness before the dark skinned girl breaks it.

"By the way, would you happen to know when the morning basketball practices let out?" Her question is innocent enough, but a buzz in Percy's gut tells him that there's more behind it than she's letting on.

He shrugs, his hand tightening around his backpack strap. "I'm not positive. But I know they start at 6:50, and they probably let out sometime before 7:30 to give the players a chance to shower and get dressed for school. I can ask Beck later today."

Hazel shakes her head, absentmindedly picking at her cuticles. "No, that's okay. I was already on my way to the front office to check out the times myself." She gestures towards him. "But I saw you at your locker, so I guessed that asking you wouldn't hurt." She looks up at him with a soft smile.

Percy nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry I couldn't help you." His words are sincere.

The dancer waves it away. "It's fine. I'll see you around, Percy." She offers him a small wave and carries on down the hallway, her hands folded behind her back.

The swimmer just stands there, having no idea what to do next.

Then, Hazel freezes and spins around. "Wait, Percy!"

He looks up at her, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"

A sheepish smile grows on her face. She rubs the back of her ankle with her foot again. "I know you guys are friends so... if you see Leo... tell him I said hey, okay?"

Percy has to seriously fight the grin from breaking his face in half. He forces himself to keep his tone balanced and his nod calm. "I will. Bye, Hazel."

She lifts a hand in response and turns back around. Her gait is a bit quicker this time, and her head hangs a bit lower.

The swimmer grins to himself. "I definitely will."

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **4th period. English. Right before lunch.**

"No, when I tell you I hate basketball- I fucking _mean_ it."

The substitute looks up from his phone, reproach riddling the expression on his face. "Just because today is a free day for y'all does _not_ mean I will be tolerating profanity. Broaden your vocabulary or you can go visit Dean Winchester."

Frank, Dakota, and Gwen snicker to themselves as Travis apologizes, a deep blush spreading across his face.

"Basketball is kind of horrible. I have no idea how you and Jason somehow convinced me to try out." The older of the Stoll brothers aims a glare at Frank. "I demand reparations for my suffering."

The East Asian boy in question leans over the aisle to clap his friend of the back. "Sorry." His tone isn't apologetic in the slightest. "Your reparations will be the championship trophy this year."

Travis shrugs off his friend's hand before rolling his eyes. "Shut up."

Frank's broad shoulders tremble with laughter as he pulls away and settles into his seat.

Travis then turns towards Percy and gestures towards him. "What about you guys?" He jerks his head in Dakota's direction as well. "Does swimming suck for you guys too?"

Before Percy can answer, Dakota turns his attention away from touching Gwen's hair to join the conversation. "Dude, it's absolutely _horrible_. We have a really big meet coming up right before regional qualifiers in a few weeks, and Coach T has gone _ballistic_." He snorts, folding his arms over his chest. "Ethan got a cramp mid-backstroke today and he made him _finish_ his set before he could get out."

Percy leans forward in his seat. "Wait, what? That happened?"

Dakota nods in his direction, his nose ring catching in the light. "Yeah, it did. If swim-limping was a thing, Ethan was _definitely_ doing it." Then he pauses, giving his green eyed friend another one of his faux distasteful once-overs. "Except you weren't there to see it. Cuz, y'know, Coach let you get out early."

Gwen slams her palms against her desk, leaning forward. "He did _what_?"

The black haired swimmer leans back in his seat, trying his best not to look embarrassed as Dakota hurries on in explanation. "Yeah! He totally did! It was so unfair." He brushes his purple-black hair out of his eyes and takes another swig of his Kool Aid.

The action reminds Percy of Monster, reminding him that he's in dire need of another pack. He keeps his gaze fixed on the clock that's mounted above the teacher's desk. "I finished my set before anyone else did. So Coach Triton let me get out before anyone else did."

Gwen leans back, unimpressed. "Oh." Her nose wrinkles before she turns around to flick her boyfriend in the chest. "You're such a drama queen, 'Kota."

"It's a habit I picked up from you. I apologize." He smirks, burying his fingers into her hair.

Percy turns away from the sight of Gwen undressing her boyfriend with her eyes, clearing his throat. He aims a pointed stare at Frank, hoping to convey the need to start a conversation.

Frank leans forward in his seat, his gaze flickering to the couple that sit beside them. "I heard that it's Chef's Surprise today at lunch. Wanna make a bet? See who can keep the food down the longest?"

Percy almost snorts. "Gross. I think I'll pass."

"You never take up anyone on anything. Why?" Dakota jumps back into the conversation, untangling himself from Gwen's grasp. The girl leans over her seat, apparently interested.

The black haired student in question tugs lazily at his tie. "I d'unno." He shrugs. "Nothing ever really seems worth making a bet over. Half the shit you guys propose are just... _nasty_." He makes a face.

Gwen chuckles, twisting her hair up into a bun. "C'mon, Jackson. Everyone knows that nasty bets are the best ones. They're the ones with the highest stakes!"

Frank gives her a pointed look. "You're addicted to raising the stakes. Your opinion doesn't have validity in this convo."

She sticks out her tongue at him, though her eyes shine with humor. "Meanie."

"Well, _I_ , for one, think that you should have a bet sooner or later." Dakota cuts in. "You never know. You just might win." He grins just as the bell rings, dismissing the class.

Percy stands and tosses his backpack over his shoulder. "Oh please," he fakes an eye roll in the attempt to ignore the anxiety that's tearing havoc in his gut. "I'm _so_ not into self inflicted pain." He follows his friends (minus Travis who states he's going to go look for Katie) out to Gwen's locker.

She stuffs her books inside before grabbing her Hello Kitty lunch box. Leaning against her locker, the blonde smirks up at Percy. "And here I was thinking that you were a _dominatrix_. Who would've thought, huh?"

Dakota meows.

The eighteen year old opens his mouth and closes it, attempting to hide his blush."I don't think that-"

Gwen cuts him off, waggling her eyebrows at him. "Keep this up and Rachel will start calling you Daddy."

" _Okay, that was so-"_

"Stop terrorizing him, babe." Dakota snickers under his breath and finishes off his Kool Aid. He slings an arm around his girlfriend's shoulder and murmurs into her ear. However, his words are loud enough for Percy to make out a faint "And anyways, you owe me a blow-"

"I'm leaving." Percy clears his throat before he can hear any more, trying his hardest not to vomit on Frank's shoes.

Gwen looks up, her face hot and her gaze distracted. "So are we." She grins lazily as Dakota begins to tug her away.

Again, Percy doesn't know how to feel as he watches the couple stumble through the crowd of students, giggling maniacally as they go.

Dakota calls over his shoulder, "Perce! Frank! You guys wanna come over to the Cellar today?"

Both boys decline.

"You already know I don't smoke the devil's lettuce, Bacchi. Maybe next time." Percy calls after him, willingly handing over false hope.

Dakota's face falls just before it disappears into the crowd.

After a long pause spent attempting to register what just happened, Frank turns to Percy. "That was..." His voice dies out as he struggles to find the right words.

"Yeah." The black haired student nods in confirmation. He turns in the direction of the library, butterflies again taking root in the pits of his stomach. "I'll see you later, Frank."

His friend frowns a little, stepping forward. "Where are you going?" He asks, his tone concerned. "Aren't you gonna eat?"

Percy fakes a smile. "I already ate," he lies. "Anyways, I have to meet with someone."

The East Asian boy nods in understanding. "Ah. I see." He claps his friend on the shoulder almost hard enough to make him wince. "I'll see you later then."

The eighteen year old merely holds up a peace sign, and the pair part ways.

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **Library.**

The hallway is only a little bit louder than the library. Most of the students had already filtered out into the cafeteria or their cars for lunch.

Percy waves nervously at the librarian, who seems a bit surprised to see him. She nods after recovering from her shock and he walks further into the room of books.

 _What does he have to lose?_

His heart beats against his rib cage as he recalls Piper's text. " _Towards the back by the TA work room_ ," he mutters to himself. His stomach churns with apprehension and bile as he dodges between the numerous bookshelves. His eyes scan for the table.

 _One, two, three, four, fi-_

He freezes in his gait as he finds it. She's bent over the table with what seems to Percy to be patience. But his focus immediately goes to the book that lies on the table top, his throat beginning to close up.

His vision tunnels at the sight of the words _Your's Truly, Atlantis_ that scrawls the front cover.

 _Your's Truly, Atlantis._

By Sally Jackson.

His eyes sting and his chest constricts as he stares at the book.

 _She has his mother's book._

"Calm down, Percy." He whispers. He quietly sucks in a deep breath, fluttering his eyes closed as he takes a few steps back. "Just calm down. Now is not the time for this," He mostly speaks to his pulse.

After several moments spent trying to calm his heart rate, the black haired student tightens his grip on his backpack strap and steps forward.

It's as if his feet don't even touch the ground as he walks towards the table. The scent of lemonade fills his nostrils as he draws closer, saturating with every step. He stops opposite of his tutor, who immediately stills, and he prays silently that his voice will remain steady once his mouth opens. "I don't mean to sound creepy or anything, but... are you Annabeth Chase? My new tutor?"

She looks up almost instantly, her neck craning to meet his gaze. Her lips pull into a kind enough smile, which falters for a moment when their eyes meet. His tutor swallows as she nods and motions for him to sit. "Yes, I am she." She says, tilting her head. A sort of diluted English accent hides slightly behind her words. "Your new tutor."

 _What does he have to lose?_

He moves to sit down, his gaze flickered upon the mass of pale blonde curls that's slicked back and spilled around her thin shoulders. She gazes up at him with a neutral face, her glasses catching a glare from the fluorescent lights above.

And as Percy settles into his seat, he realizes that it isn't until this very moment in his life that he's ever been in the presence of true intelligence. Of course, he is aware that the majority of his friends are rather smart. But they aren't _truly_ intelligent.

 _Not like Annabeth, anyways._

He slings his backpack into the cushioned chair beside him, pumping his leg in the attempt to match the speed with that of his heart.

Annabeth smiles at him a bit knowingly as she pushes her glasses farther up her ski slope-like nose. "You're... _Perseus_ , right?" Her voice is low, soft and a bit husky. And her lips form the name in a way that seems to Percy as if she's practiced it.

His heart thumps a bit harder as he sits straighter, heat rushing into his cheeks. The eighteen year old scratches the back of his neck, embarrassment filling his chest. "Did Piper tell you to call me that?"

Annabeth falters, her eyebrows lifting for just a moment before they descend to their usual position. "Yes," she begins slowly, her eyes narrowing. "Is there something else that you would rather be called?" Her tone is curious, and proper. Educated.

 _Percy has never felt stupider in his entire life._

But even so, the black haired student manages a collected nod. "Percy's fine." He internally applauds himself.

The room falls silent, awkwardness swelling between them.

Percy aims to calm his rapidly beating heart, taking in deep breaths and exhaling slowly. His gaze eventually slides to the blonde in front of him. And with a jolt, he sees that she's watching him. Her lips are pursed and her hands are still, but even he can see the tiny smile that's pulling at the corner of her mouth.

Annabeth reaches forward. "Percy," her smile grows a degree. "It's okay."

The eighteen year old forces a laugh. "Am I being that obvious?"

The blonde leans back with a nod. "Just a little bit. I understand, though. It's natural to be nervous. But remember that I'm here to help you. Not intimidate you."

Percy nods. "Yeah." As his lips come to rest, his gaze follows her small hand that reaches up to twist a curl of hair between her nimble fingers. He forces himself to tear his gaze away. "Is there anything that you aren't aware of right now?"

Her eyebrows crinkle and her hand drops. "Pardon?"

He feels like slamming his forehead into the table top, embarrassment spreading wider in his stomach. "Sorry. I should've worded that better." He sucks in another breath before continuing. "My situation. Is there anything that Piper didn't tell you?"

Annabeth nods, understanding. "Oh." She straightens then. "Yes, there's a lot, actually. She only told me your name and the fact that you needed a tutor. Not much else."

Percy's eyes roll reflexively. "Of course she did." He groans, the vibrations rumbling in his chest as he reaches for his backpack. He quickly changes his mind, suddenly ashamed of his low grades. "I'm in need of some help in Anatomy." He forces his gaze away from her face, studying the bookshelves that surround them.

"Percy." Annabeth's tone is firm enough to have him staring into her eyes.

Or at least, the eyes that hide behind her glasses. He cannot see them well enough to tell the exact color they are. He assumes a light blue, what with her blonde hair and all.

"Yeah?" His voice shudders. He wants to slap himself.

 _What the hell is wrong with you?_

She tilts her head a bit to the side, her gaze piercing. "Before we begin to discuss _anything_ , I have a few rules that I need to lay down."

Anxiety sparks in his gut, urging his heart to beat faster. "Rules like... what?"

She purses her lips and leans forward. "Rule number one: shame and all words connoting shame have no meaning here. Any shame regarding grades and test scores can and will result in extra practice work." Her expression grows malicious. "I can promise you that."

Percy swallows and merely nods in response, his leg pumping a bit faster.

Annabeth continues, her tone softening. "Rule number two: there's no such thing as a stupid question, okay? Stupid is a forbidden word here. I don't tolerate _anyone_ calling himself stupid." Her face contorts. "It's barbaric."

Before he can stop himself, Percy is leaning forward with a tiny grin. "Then call me a barbarian."

Her lips curl up into a smile before it quickly disappears and she shakes her head. "Rule number two and a half," she pauses to shoot him a Look. Percy hides his smile, his heart rate slowing. "No interrupting the tutor."

She then lets loose a quiet sigh and leans back into her seat. "As for my final rule: honesty. In order for me to help you, I'm going to need honesty from you, Percy. Is that alright?"

The black haired student nods with every bit of earnestness he can muster. "Got it."

Annabeth swallows, as if guilty, before she shrugs it off and gestures towards his bag. "Now, how about we see what exactly we're going to be working with, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am." He nods again, reaching into his backpack to pull out his Anatomy textbook and binder. "All of my recent grades are in here." He swallows down any anxiety that's brewing in his throat as she moves to pull his binder towards her.

The blonde freezes. "Wait, actually there's one more thing I need to ask of you."

His eyebrows lift. "What is it?"

Her hands move around a bit as she talks. "Do you have any disabilities that I should be aware of? Anything that would or does prohibit you from performing well during class?" Annabeth's expression softens when she sees him hesitate to answer. "Remember that shame doesn't exist here, Percy. It's okay."

He nods a bit too quickly. "Yeah, I know, um-" Percy pauses to swallow, scratching nervously at the corner of his ear. "I have ADHD..."

"...And?" She juts her head forward, motioning for him to continue. "You're leaving something out. I know you are."

Percy forces himself to stare at her, refusing to back down from the challenge that she's inaudibly brought forth. "And dyslexia. I'm dyslexic." His tone is a bit more gruff than he had intended. He clears his throat, another blush spreading across his face. "Sorry."

Annabeth nods, another small and polite smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "See? That wasn't so difficult, now was it? I'm dyslexic too, Percy. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

A jolt of shock shudders down his spine. It's all he can do to keep his jaw from going slack. " _You_ _? Dyslexic?_ "

Her smile grows a bit more genuine, then. "Yes, me. In fact," She opens his binder and pulls out her phone. Percy watches as she snaps a few photos of his notes and lowly performed quizzes and tests. She closes the binder and pushes it back towards him. "For today, let's just get to know each other, yes? We can begin working on your grades on Monday."

Relief quenches the growing fire in his heart. Percy releases the tension between his shoulder blades. "Okay... yeah, okay." He fights to keep his smile from growing. "I kind of like that."

She nods knowingly. "You seem like the type of person who would."

An eyebrow lifts. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

The blonde shrugs, pushing her silken hair from her left shoulder. Percy tries not to focus on the action too much, but it catches his attention a bit more than he would have assumed. "Maybe you're never meant..." Her voice falters, and for a moment, Percy can see her nervousness clearer than water.

For a moment, he knows that her heart is beating just as fast as his.

That she's just as uncomfortable as he is.

But then her expression walls again and the evident anxiety is replaced by manufactured confidence. "Maybe you were never meant to know." She finishes.

He nods slowly. "I see. So... tell me about yourself, Annabeth." He leans back in his seat, trying to get as comfortable as he can under those piercing light eyes.

Annabeth's head cocks to the side, an action that mirrors Jason's so much it nearly gives him vertigo. He sees the ghosts of his friends' habits within her every action. "I think I'm the one who's supposed to be asking questions, Percy."

He smiles a little, taking note of her elegant neck without meaning to. "But I asked first."

She presses her elbow into the table top to lean against her fist. Another one of her minuscule smiles tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I suppose you're right. Chronology is a matter to be respected."

"Exactly," he agrees, leaning forward. "So spill."

She chuckles lowly at his words, as if she's remembering something else. The blonde shifts her attention back to him. "What exactly would you like to know?"

He has to pause to think about it. Then, with a shrug, he responds. "Anything that you believe is worth knowing."

Annabeth lets loose another chuckle that he immediately recognizes as forced and a little nervous. She pushes her glasses up her nose and purses her lips a bit. "I don't think there's much, to be honest."

"That's okay." He nods gently, a small burst of joy climbing into his chest when he sees the small spark of relief that unfolds on her face. "I'll go, then."

She nods at him expectantly.

Percy huffs a bit. "Hmm... well..." He scratches at his chin, his gaze lifting towards the ceiling as he thinks about what he should say. "I'm eighteen. No middle name." He pauses. "Um... I have two younger siblings, their names are Tyson and Estelle. My mom's an author... I play football and I swim. And... I... have a motorcycle?" He lowers his gaze to find his tutor staring at him as if he had crawled out of the sewer. "What?"

Annabeth shakes her head. "Nothing... it's just..." Her words fade out.

"Just what?"

She swallows and fights another smile. "Our ideas of information worth knowing are very..." Her eyes flicker to the bookshelves that surround them as she seemingly searches for the right word. Her gaze falls back to him with a snap. " _Different._ "

The black haired student raises an eyebrow. "How?"

She places her palms on the desk. "I was under the impression that we would be baring our souls... in a "I-just-met-you-so-what-do-I-have-to-lose" kind of way." She looks away, her cheeks tinting pink. "Moronic of me, I'm aware."

Percy feels his eyebrows furrow. "No it isn't." He leans forward, folding his arms over the desk.

Annabeth's gaze flickers over to him. "What?"

 _What does he have to lose?_

He shakes his head and gestures towards her. "Moronic of you. It isn't." He states plainly.

"Care... care to elaborate?" Her confident facade shatters as her words repeat and her fingers begin twisting her hair between them. Percy has to force himself to stop staring.

"The kind of way that you assumed. It isn't moronic." He pauses, trying to look everywhere except for her face before he stops fighting it and looks at her again. "It's just idealistic."

Annabeth purses her lips and leans against her fist, slight amusement building on her face. "Are you saying that because you want to sound deep... or because after today we won't exactly be quote-unquote _strangers_ anymore?"

Percy shrugs with what he hopes is the hint of a non-creepy smile. "A little bit of both."

His tutor shakes her head, smile stretching just a little bit wider. "Then that tells me you were aiming for the first option."

He shrugs again and latches his hand onto the back of his neck, rouge heat warming his face right down to his Adam's apple. "Well, I guess I'm pretty basic."

The blonde chuckles to herself again before she pushes her copy of his mother's book a bit farther from herself. Annabeth slides her glasses farther up the slope of her nose. The way that she simply states, "If you say so," in response tightens his stomach.

"So." Percy clears his throat and straightens in his seat. "Am I supposed to say something actually worth knowing now or...?" He trails off, swallowing thickly.

Annabeth leans away, readjusting her position. Her glasses catch another glare briefly. "That's a great question. I say we should leave the pleasantries to grow on their own, yes?"

He nods slowly, registering her words. "Um... yes? I think so?"

She chuckles under her breath before her expression sobers. "Do you have any questions to ask of me?" She pauses before hurrying on. "You know, pertaining to your sessions."

The eighteen year old has to think about it. When he remembers his work schedule, he nods. "What times are you available?"

Annabeth tilts her head. "What times are _you_ available? Most of my sessions take place before school or directly after school on Tuesday's and Wednesday's. My schedule is clear for the majority of the time."

He nods, slight relief bubbling in his chest before a flood of embarrassment crowds it out. "I don't have a set schedule after school, but I have swim practice every week morning until 6:45." His mind quickly goes through his school schedule. "And my lunch periods are usually free," he offers lamely as an afterthought.

"And the weekends?" Her tone is curious. "A lot of my students tend to have their sessions over the weekend as a way spread out their obligations throughout the week."

Percy's gaze flickers to his mother's book before he forces himself to look away. "I'd prefer to keep my weekends clear, if that's okay." He tries to fake a smile, but his lips are too weak to do so.

Annabeth gives him another one of her tiny, polite smiles. "Of course it is. Remember that I'm only here to help _you_ , Percy. Not the other way around." Her voice gives off a slight tremor of amusement at the last phrase.

He opens his mouth to say something when a vibration cuts him off. Percy frowns to himself and pulls out his phone, wondering who the _hell_ could be calling him at this time of day during school hours. "Sorry about that," he mutters out an apology in his tutor's direction. He doesn't even know if she hears him. "Let me check who's calling me."

He looks down, and his blood runs cold at the sight of the name _NICO DI ANGELO_ printed boldly across the screen, taunting him.

Percy glances back at Annabeth, who's waiting for him patiently, before he turns his gaze back to the trembling cellphone in his grasp. This time, his conscience asks him gravely.

 _What does he have to lose?_

* * *

 **A/N: And here's chapter 8! Two updates in one month? Honestly, I'm just as surprised as you guys probably are.**

 **Sorry if the Official Percabeth Meeting wasn't as romantic as you had probably hoped it would be.**

 **I wanted to make it as realistic as possible.**

 **Something that you should keep in mind: Annabeth is USUALLY at her most confident when tutoring. Seems like she now has an exception.**

 **Any who, thanks for reading! And thank you to everyone who leave reviews :)**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


	9. her: glacier

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Puzzle Pieces**

* * *

 **Complete Summary:**

" _Because, baby, we're two adjoined pieces of the same puzzle- whether we like it or not."_

Annabeth Chase. In which the anti social blonde haired girl destined to become valedictorian of her class, struggling to keep it together, finds solace in the kind hearted swimmer whom she tutors.

Percy Jackson. In which the broken green eyed boy destined to reach the Olympics, trying his hardest to take care of his sick mother, slowly finds peace in the beautiful savior of his grades.

They say that opposites attract, but some opposites aren't really opposites. Sometimes they're puzzle pieces- two souls destined by Fate to fit together, no matter how different they may seem at first glance.

* * *

 **Song of the Chapter: Glacier by James Vincent McMorrow**

 _"Silence is so cold, and there's no sense at all"_

 **Chapter IX**

 **Annabeth's POV**

"Percy? Is... everything alright?" Annabeth almost reaches over the table, but she stops herself. Her hand drops to her lap and she sucks in a few quiet breaths, trying to calm her heart rate that hasn't slowed down since the session started.

His gaze snaps to her, and she has to fight to keep her breath steady. There's something about those bright green eyes of his... something that affects her in a way she can't understand. Not yet, anyways.

The black haired student nods. "Yeah, I'm fine." His expression is poker. "Do... would you mind if I cut this short?" He scratches at the back of his neck.

The blonde forces her eyebrow to keep from arching. "And what exact reason would you have for that?"

Percy sits upwards completely, evident embarrassment spreading across his facial features. "It's important."

"More important than... helping yourself?" Annabeth leans against her fist. Again, she can't understand it.

There's a glint in his eye when he answers. It vanishes before the tutor gets a chance to recognize it. Percy sighs a little to himself. "It's- well... _yes._ It is more important than helping myself." He stands, and the glint reappears. Except this time, it's colder by a few degrees. "I really don't mean to be disrespectful but I have to go."

"Percy, wait-" Annabeth moves to stop him, standing up and reaching over the table. Her arm is outstretched.

Surprisingly, he does. She hadn't been expecting that.

His eyebrows lift, but the glint is gone and his tone is gentle. "Yeah?"

Annabeth withdraws, a slight blush tinting her cheeks the shade of embarrassment. She smooths out her skirt as a way to reassemble whatever's left of her dignity and she sits. "Never mind," she sighs. The blonde slides her glasses farther up her nose. "We weren't going to _really_ get anything done today, anyways."

Percy smiles a little, his lips curling up a bit on one side. "Thank you, Annabeth." His tone is sincere as he runs a hand through his midnight shaded hair, most likely a force of habit. "I'll see you on Monday, then?"

She forces herself to nod despite the fact that her heart is using her rib cage as a battering ram. "On Monday. Have a nice weekend, Percy."

"You too." He lifts a hand before disappearing behind the shelves.

Annabeth releases a breath and the tension in her shoulders that she wasn't even aware she was holding. She pinches the bridge of her nose and shuts her eyes. "What... in _all things good was that?_ "

Her mind quickly runs through her brief encounter with _Percy Jackson._ It doesn't even feel _real_.

The blonde leans back and stares at the ceiling. "What's wrong with me?" She whispers to the black speckled tiles, recalling the emergence of her English accent and stutters. "Honestly. What even _was_ that?"

Her heart rate has yet to simmer down. Annabeth has no idea why or how it's climbed so high in the first place. She's never been so nervous around a student before- tutoring is her _safe space_ , after all.

Is it a result of her guilt?

 _Is it because she has to lie to him- to his bright green eyes?_

"Of course it isn't." She huffs, tearing her gaze from the ceiling and placing it on the weathered book in front of her. "It's not his... _eyes._ That's foolish. Totally foolish." The seventeen year old stands and gathers her things, drawing a sharp breath through her lips. "Get it together, Annabeth."

A quick glance at her phone tells her that she's done for the day. Having only four classes definitely has its perks. Being able to leave early when she's ahead in three of them is one.

Annabeth waves to the librarian, a genuine smile pulling at her lips. Seeing her always makes her feel better. "Have a nice weekend, Ms. Hestia."

Ms. Hestia looks up from her place at the desk and sends a warming grin right back to the blonde. "You too, Annabeth. I'll see you on Monday."

She nods in response, pushing open the door to the library. "On Monday." Then the seventeen year old empties into the hallway and heads towards her locker.

Annabeth is a lot more grateful than she'd ever admit that the halls are empty. Something about not having to dodge couples engaging in PDA and gossiping jocks and stoners who smell more like weed than deodorant for once soothes her.

As she places her books in her locker, the reflection in the mirror that hangs in the door catches her eye. She smiles a little at the thought of it. Piper had gifted her that mirror. And against her better judgment, the blonde turns to look. She pulls off her glasses gingerly, and peers at the girl that stares back at her. She studies her, _really_ studies her.

 _She's tired_. Annabeth can see it behind her eyes. Somewhere in those grey irises of hers, fatigue swims alive and well. Fatigue and frustration. She lifts a hand to one of her pale eyebrows, a bit surprised that she can even see them from up close.

 _She's lost._ The seventeen year old's gaze falls to her own stance. Even she can see just how unsure of herself she really is. _Why?_

"You know why," she murmurs under her breath. Icy blue eyes and sandy blond hair scatter across the forefront of her mind, but the seventeen year old forces herself to shake off that thought before it can fully materialize. Her focus goes back to her face, more curious than before. Annabeth opens her mouth to speak some more but she's cut short by the sound of footsteps that come from down the hallway.

She peers over the edge of her locker door.

"Nico... _slow down._ I can't hear a _word_ you're saying right now," he's saying. She feels her blood run slightly colder at that. Annabeth _knows_ that baritone of voice all too well.

Percy comes into view soon enough. He's too far to notice her and his back is turned anyways, but she can see that his phone is lifted to his ear. He leans against the row of lockers, sinking a hand into his inky black waves of hair. He does that a lot, she realizes. " _No,_ " he says. "Listen to me. _Nico. Listen to me_."

Suddenly, Annabeth is under the impression of eavesdropping and she no longer feels comfortable with where she is.

As if she was comfortable in the first place. _Ha._

The blonde shoves her glasses back over her face and slips her arms through her backpack straps. Then, closing her locker door as quietly as she can, Annabeth tries her hardest to make her getaway.

He must've noticed her after she'd already turned, because as soon as she places a hand on the door that leads to the front hallway, Annabeth hears a confused voice echo behind her. "Hey, Annabeth! Is that you?"

She pretends not to hear him, pushing her way through the metal doors and practically running to freedom. He doesn't follow her, which she's grateful for. Annabeth isn't sure if she can take being in his presence any longer today, anyways.

Her breaths finally slow as she reaches her car and pulls out her keys. "Okay, _okay_." She whispers encouragement to herself once she's inside. Annabeth leans against the steering wheel, pressing her forehead into it. "You're out. Now _who_ could've guessed that Annabeth Chase can run that fast?" She breathes out a small bit of laughter. " _Certainly not me._ "

She slips the key into the ignition and starts the car, turning on the radio. "All jokes aside- make today a _good_ day, Annabeth." Her words are as serious as she can muster. "You deserve a good day _._ "

Her phone rings as she pulls out of the parking lot. Annabeth waits to pull up to a stoplight before returning the call. "Hey, what is it?" She greets into the line when the other end picks up.

"I need a reason to call you now?"

The blonde rolls her eyes but can't bite back her smile as she quickly connects her phone to the bluetooth before continuing down the street. "There's usually a reason with you, Thals."

"That's very accurate. But it's irrelevant in this case. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

 _Bless her heart._ Annabeth bears a right turn smoothly. "But I saw you last night."

"That was what... 19 hours ago? A lot can change in that time period, y'know."

She laughs. "Whatever. I'm fine, Thalia. Thank you for asking."

"You're welcome." Then the line is silent for a few moments before Thalia breathes out another question. "Do you have any plans for today?"

The seventeen year old glances at the clock as she slowly presses on the brakes. "I was just going to go to the bookstore for a few hours before picking up Bobby and Matthew from school." Annabeth swerves around a mangled roadkill lying halfway in the street. "Why?"

Thalia makes a strange noise, as if she's sucking on her teeth. "I was thinking about going to the movies with a few coworkers from the women's shelter later today."

That raises a blonde eyebrow. "I thought you couldn't stand most of your coworkers?"

"I can't." Her friend agrees. "That's why it would be _so_ much fucking better if you were there. I wouldn't feel the need to shave my eyebrows with you around."

Annabeth can't keep the wheeze of laughter from slipping past her lips at the sound of that. After she finally sobers, she shakes her head even though Thalia can't see her. "I'll think about it, Thals. My stepmother might have me make dinner, tonight."

Thalia huffs, but they both know that the older of the two is willing to take what she can get. "Fine. Call me if you change your mind, okay? The movie's at 9:30."

"I won't forget it," she nods.

"Please don't mock me, Annabeth."

The blonde breathes out a chuckle. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Alright."

When the call finally goes dead, Annabeth grips the steering wheel a little bit tighter. The calmness that had flowed like water beneath her skin when she was on the phone drains out by the drop. Her incoming headache pulses just a little bit stronger, warning her of it's onslaught of pain.

But even still, she tries to remain positive.

 _She deserves a good day._

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **3 hours later. Brenwick Middle School parking lot.**

Annabeth tries to keep that mantra repeating in her head as her younger brothers pile into the back of the Jeep. It hasn't even been a full minute yet in their presence and already, she feels a headache growing.

"Hey Bobby, Matthew." The seventeen year old still smiles though. She's been getting better at smiling when she doesn't mean it. And she doesn't really know how she feels about that either.

" _Hi_." Matthew's response is dry as he focuses on his iPod.

"Hey, Annabeth!" Bobby leans forward from the backseat and wraps his arms around her neck.

She tries not to arch her eyebrow at this as she gestures for him to buckle up and slowly peels out of the parking lot. "You certainly seem to be in a good mood, B." Her eyes meet his in the rearview mirror.

He looks happy with himself. "I've just had a good day, that's all."

Annabeth doesn't believe that for a second. But she keeps her thoughts to herself until they pull up to a stoplight and she spins in her seat. "What do you want, Bobby?"

His grin is malicious in the way that the Chesire cat is. "I don't want anything."

The blonde narrows her eyes at his cheesy grin. "Say it now, or you'll never get it."

Bobby opens his mouth to respond, but falters for a moment before pointing at the windshield. "The light's green, Annabeth."

The Jeep lurches forward, but Annabeth isn't swayed. "Again- what do you want from me, Bobby?"

He cocks his head to the side and bats his eyelashes at her. "You know I _love you_ , right?"

Annabeth ignores the not-so-subtle scoff that comes from Matthew's end of the backseat. She tries her hardest not to feel hurt. _She deserves a good day._ So instead, she focuses on her other younger brother instead. "I love you too, Bobby. But that doesn't answer my question at all."

The car is silent for 11 minutes and 37 seconds. Just when she feels that the awkwardness can't get any worse, her brother begins speaking. Bobby pulls his best puppy dog face- which has never worked on Annabeth in all his 11 years of life. "Burger King? Please?"

She can't stop her eyebrow from cocking this time. "Do you have the money for Burger King?"

He pulls out a twenty dollar bill with a smirk. "I do, actually."

"And do you have gas money?"

Another thirty dollars is pulled from his backpack. "Here it is, actually."

"Then you can get it tomorrow with your mom, right?" She turns into their subdivision.

Her younger brother's puppy dog face drops and he lets out an exasperated groan. "You already know how Mom _hates_ fast food. If I ever told her I wanted Burger King she'd kick me through the windshield."

She pretends to bite back a smile. "You never are scarce with the melodrama, are you, Bobby?"

He sticks out his tongue at her in response. "Bite me, Annabeth."

"I'd rather not. You're sweaty." Another turn pulls the car onto their street. The blonde slows the speed of the car before coming to a full stop only a few doors down from their house. "Wait," she says as she spins around in her seat. She ignores the flare of pain that her now-present headache throbs with.

Matthew looks up from his music, curiosity overtaking his facial features. "What?"

"Do we have any food at home?"

Bobby shakes his head all too eagerly. "We don't. That's why I _asked_. G'doi!" He smacks his forehead in mockery.

The seventeen year old sends him a blank look as she slowly accelerates the Jeep into their driveway. "I'll take a quick look at the pantry. If we have enough for dinner, I'll call you guys inside. If not, I'll take you out to eat. Deal?"

Matthew grunts in response but Bobby grins cheekily. "Deal!"

Annabeth exits the car and heads towards the front door. Fatigue pulls on her limbs as she slides the key into the lock and lets herself in. Her feet seemingly ghost over the floor tiles as she walks into the kitchen and opens the pantry. A heavy sigh forces its way through her lips as she gazes at the lack of food.

 _Helen was supposed to do the shopping three days ago._

The blonde gently kicks the door closed and rubs at her eyelids. "I deserve a good day, I deserve a good day, I _deserve_ a good day." Her headache pulses in retaliation, as if to mock her.

The seventeen year old quickly checks her account balance before going back to the car. She tries to ignore the fact that Bobby is basically vibrating in his seat with excitement. She buckles her seat belt and reverses out of the driveway smoothly. "So do you guys want to go to Burger King? Or would you rather eat something else?"

"You already know _my_ answer," is Bobby's response. When Matthew doesn't answer, his brother nudges him in the side with his foot. "Hey. _Hey. Matthew._ "

The older of the two looks up, slight disorientation swirling in his eyes. "What?"

Bobby gestures towards Annabeth, who's watching the encounter through brief glances aimed at the rear-view mirror. "She wants to know if we actually want to eat at Burger King or if we want anything else."

Matthew turns, his gaze meeting the blonde's. "Are you paying?" His words are flat. Just like his mother's.

 _She deserves to have a good day._

Annabeth nods. "I am. So are you two sure you want Burger King?"

The twins remain quiet for a few minutes. Whenever she glances at them, she sees that they're whispering amongst themselves. Annabeth awaits their response with as much patience as she can.

"Well on second thought..." Bobby begins, cracking his knuckles. "Is Applebee's okay? Matt and I saw a commercial for this new shrimp and steak dish a few nights ago and we want to try it out."

The blonde nods, although she's inwardly weeping over her bank account. "Yeah, that's fine," she manages to say.

The rest of the car ride is silent. And Annabeth has to remind herself again and again to forget about the fact that this is the most she's spoken to her younger brothers at once since the beginning of the school year.

But the fact hurts enough to keep surfacing from the depths of her subconscious.

She turns into the Appleebee's parking lot a few minutes later. Surprisingly, there aren't many cars in the lot, despite it being a Friday afternoon. She supposes the place will fill up as the sun sets and night grows young.

Annabeth parks the Jeep and the twins almost trip over themselves getting out of the car. Matthew mostly keeps to himself as he slips his AirPods into his pocket but Bobby pushes him occasionally.

Her headache throbs all the harder once they enter the half empty restaurant. The smell of dishwater and cooking meals hits her nostrils, causing her head to spin. Annabeth has to force herself to keep from making a sound of distress, determined not to call any attention to herself.

 _This was a bad idea._

It isn't long before they're seated at a table. The seventeen year old watches the diners that surround them in the attempt to distract herself from the throbbing at the epicenter of her skull. She swallows thickly as her gaze flickers from a father soothing his child, to a pair of young men who seem more interested in each other than their meals.

She looks away, hiding a tiny smile, when she notices their hands brush against the other.

"It stinks in here," Matthew grumbles under his breath.

"Just think of the food, dude." Bobby's response is light. "Probably smells better in here than a Burger King, anyways. You complain too much."

"Shut up."

Annabeth rubs at the bridge of her nose. "Please lower your voices."

Her brothers give her a unanimous look. But while Bobby remains silent, Matthew's eyes narrow and his brows pinch. The older of the two leans back in his seat, his dark eyes tightening. "What are you talking about? We weren't even _being_ loud."

The blonde sighs and absentmindedly twists a strand of hair between her fingers. "Just... _please_ ," she manages to slip out a few words before her headache pulses all the stronger.

Matthew rolls his eyes and takes out his iPod. "Whatever."

The table falls silent after that. Annabeth shoves the embarrassment that's steadily clambering through her lungs to the pits of her gut. Her cheeks warm as she stares at the table top, studying the dessert menu as if it's the most intriguing object to grace the Earth.

 _She deserves a good day, she deserves a good day, she deserves a-_

"Welcome to Applebee's, my name is Reyna and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks and appetizers to order?" A smooth, feminine voice pulls the blonde from her mantra.

Annabeth looks up from the table to see a tall latina staring back at her expectantly. Her dark brown eyes match her balanced smile. And with a stomach rumble, the seventeen year old recognizes her instantly. Reyna Arellano, the president of the senior class and current salutatorian.

Reyna tilts her head a little, her eyebrows raising as her gaze darts between the three occupants of the table when no one responds right away. "Would... any of you like anything to drink? Or have any appetizers?"

Annabeth isn't surprised in the slightest that Reyna doesn't recognize her. The blonde isn't necessarily the center of attention at Goode. She swallows thinly and gestures towards her younger brothers, who are apparently deep in whispered conversation with each other. "Bobby, Matthew, do you want anything to drink?"

Bobby turns sharply. "Do you serve Cherry Coke here? Cuz if you do then that's what I want."

Reyna nods and scribbles down the order before angling her pen towards Matthew. "And for you?"

Matthew shrugs, his expression losing the haughty flair. "Root beer is fine."

The latina nods again and turns towards Annabeth. She drags her mahogany gaze from the notepad in her hand to the nervous grey one that's preparing herself to speak. Reyna doesn't say a word, her expression asking the question in her stead.

Annabeth swallows and purses her lips. "Just a lemonade, thanks." Then she adds as an afterthought. "And we won't be ordering any appetizers."

The class president gives her another smile. "Your drinks will be out shortly." Then she walks away to serve another table.

Silence grows between the party of three once more, and the seventeen year old exhales softly and massages her temples, her headache throbbing in rhythm with her heart. She closes her eyes and the image of her bed scatters across the forefront of her mind. All she wants is to pop an Advil and go to sleep.

But instead, she's sitting in a smelly Applebee's with no one to talk to and a headache.

"You deserve a good day," she reminds herself. _No need to be negative._

23 minutes pass and Reyna comes back out with their drinks and takes their entree orders before disappearing again into the kitchen. Bobby and Matthew keep to themselves once more, and Annabeth feels alone.

She closes her eyes and lays her head against the table, allowing the darkness to swallow her whole and her mind to run rampant with whatever thoughts emerge first. For some reason, the only thing she can think about is Percy's tutoring session.

The wave of nausea hits her stomach in full force, her anxiousness coursing through her veins as the sight of his sea green eyes take center stage in her mind's eyes.

Annabeth sits upright abruptly, to her headache's chagrin, and sends the thoughts of her embarrassing performance to the back of her mind. She takes a sip of her lemonade.

 _She'll do better on Monday. She knows she will._

30 more minutes pass by without any meaning, spent in silence and quiet stares at other diners, before their food arrives. The twins don't utter another word to Annabeth except for a quick thanks (Matthew's is evidently begrudged) for her offer to pay for it. The seventeen year old finishes her brisket tacos and lemonade with her stomach feeling a lot worse than it had been when she left school.

She pays the bill and leaves a $15 tip before standing slowly and heading back out to the parking lot. Annabeth slips into the driver's seat, her senses numb, and starts the Jeep. Again, the blonde repeats the message of positivity to herself.

 _You_ _deserve a good day, you deserve a good day, you deserve a good day._

But this time... it's quieter.

The drive home carries the same silence that dinner was afflicted with. But when Annabeth pulls into the driveway and sees both of her parent's cars parked there, dread washes away any numbness from her skin. The ground floor lights are all turned on.

This can't be good.

The seventeen year old barely waits for her brothers to exit the Jeep before she locks the doors and hurries into the house. The front door is unlocked, and the stench of burning food hits her nostrils the same moment Helen's scream tears through the walls.

"How _dare_ you!" She cries. "Why the hell did you come back? _Get the fuck out!_ "

Frederick's voice follows suit not even three seconds afterwards. "This is _my_ house, Helen!"

The sound of smashing glass reverberates through Annabeth's bones and the fear that grips her solidifies into a lump in her throat. She spins around to grab her brothers' shoulders.

Both Matthew and Bobby are frozen at the front door, eyes wide and faces ashen as they watch the toxic argument taking place in the kitchen and living room. Annabeth grips Matthew's shoulder and Bobby's forearm and shakes them from their stupor. Her heart pounds as they slowly come back to it and focus their attention on her.

"Go upstairs," she whispers to them. "Go upstairs and lock the door and don't come out until they're done arguing, alright?"

Matthew responds first, nodding quickly and pulling his twin brother up the stairs with a speed that matches the anxiety curling through the seventeen year old's gut. She flinches when another crash comes from the kitchen.

Their arguments aren't usually like this. This is worse.

 _Much, much worse._

Annabeth swallows as she ventures into the kitchen just in time to see her stepmother aim a slap at her father's face, her hand moving through the air in the direction of his bruises. Her breaths stop when Frederick catches Helen's wrist mid-attack and tosses her away. Light grey smoke curls from the oven, casting a veil over the room that stings the blonde's eyes.

The East Asian woman screams in frustration. "I won't tolerate a man who attacks his son over the mention of his _damn ex-wife_." Another ceramic plate smashes against tile as she points an accusing finger in her father's face. "I'm _sick_ of your shit! Pack up and _leave_."

Annabeth grips her phone tighter at the mention of her older brother. Her throat closes up and tears begin to well in the corners of her eyes. But she doesn't know if the wetness is a direct result of the noxious smoke filling the room or the sickening debate taking place before her.

Frederick's jaw ticks as he shakes his head in a wave of fury. "Malcolm is _not_ my son!"

It's not the first time that Annabeth has heard such a declaration. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to hear it for the umpteenth time. The seventeen year old blinks the growing tears from her eyes and watches as her father's face twists with anger.

"Let a man live, Helen. You're not a fucking saint, either." He spits.

Helen's laugh is icy and devoid of humor. Her words grow stronger with malice as her sentences age. "A _man_ wouldn't _cheat on his wife_ after-" She pauses to throw three plates at his head. " _Five damn years of marriage!_ " She screams.

Annabeth feels her stomach drop at the sound of that and she slowly backs away from the kitchen, sucking sharp breaths through her nostrils as heavier tears sting her eyes. The seventeen year old's legs shake and wobble as she edges closer to the stairs. She needs clean air. _And space._ Clean air and space, clean air and space, clean-

 _"_ Do _not_ blame me for that!" Is her father's crippled response.

 _"Get out of my house!_ "

The blonde feels the bottom step bump against her ankles. Tears run down her cheeks as the brutal sound of a harsh slap fills the house. She turns and runs up the stairs, fear pumping along with her blood.

She doesn't know who slapped who and she _never_ wants to know.

Annabeth barely makes it to her bedroom before she collapses. She slams the door closed and shakily slides to the floor, her breaths ragged as the sounds of her parent's argument fills her ears. She tries to tell herself that she deserves a good day, that somehow this day will end with the positivity she hopes for and needs, but she doesn't believe it.

 _She can't bring herself to believe it._

For the first time in a long time, she doesn't know how much time she spends wilting in grief. Her curved spine presses against the door, throbbing with a slight ache whenever her shoulders tremble with a new sob.

The blonde then glances at the phone that's clutched between her fingers and she exhales. Bobby and Matthew are safe in their rooms. Helen won't take her anger out on them. So it doesn't take much for her to dial the familiar number and wait for the call to pick up. The clock reads 6:12.

"Yeah? What's up?"

Annabeth takes in a deep breath before answering, wiping the tears from her eyes without success. "Hey, um... it's not too... too late for me to change my mind, is it?"

She can almost hear Thalia's grin from the other end of the line. "For you? _Never._ "

The seventeen year old nods shallowly before attempting to continue. "Okay, do... do you think you can pick me up? L-like now?" Her words trip over themselves as she tries to string a sentence together between shivers.

Thalia doesn't fail to notice that, either. Her words are concerned. "Annabeth? What's wrong? You sound like you've been cr-"

" _Please_ ," she begs. Her voice trembles and she forces a sniffle back to where it came from. "Is that okay with you, Thalia?"

"Yeah, of course." Then the 22 year old pauses, presumably to check the time. "I'll be over in like, 20 minutes."

Annabeth's vision blurs as she feels a relieved smile pull on the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Thalia."

"Don't mention it, Annabeth. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay," is her grateful response.

Then the line goes dead.

The blonde stares at the blank screen of her phone until her tears blur it out of focus. She turns it off and places it at her side. Her shoulders shake with sobs as the sound of another smack fills the house and she hugs her knees to her chest. Annabeth closes her eyes and leans her head against her bedroom door, pursing her lips together.

" _You deserve a good day_ ," she murmurs to herself. But then another wine glass smashes to the floor downstairs and all positivity drains from her soul with the same intensity of a leaky faucet. Annabeth hides her face between her knees and cries. She attempts to appeal to whatever higher power that might be above, but without much conviction. "Please... just let me have a good day. _Please._ "

* * *

 **.*.*.*.**

* * *

 **23 minutes later.**

"Hey, what's up- _woah!_ " Her friend stumbles backwards to regain her footing as Annabeth roughly circles her arms around her in an embrace. The familiar scent of black coffee and jasmine fills her nostrils and the seventeen year old finds herself digging her face farther into Thalia's shoulder. "I missed you too, Annabeth."

The blonde pulls away at that, rubbing the tears from her eyes that are undoubtedly bloodshot. "Let's... let's just go." She mutters under her breath. Half of the breathy whisper is aimed at her friend, the other half is to the grey-beige cement of her driveway.

Thalia nods without missing a beat and the pair head towards her silvery blue sedan. Annabeth clicks on her seat belt and leans against the window after slipping inside, thoroughly enjoying every drop of black coffee scented air that reaches her nostrils and fighting to keep her tears at bay. Thalia pulls out of the neighborhood and heads towards the women's shelter.

9 minutes pass by without a word breathed between the two girls. Indie music that the seventeen year old has never heard before plays softly through the speakers, caressing her skin to the point of goosebumps. Thalia mutters obscenities to other drivers as she swerves through traffic with expertise. She even lightly growls at a pair of pedestrians who meander through their (quite illegal) jaywalking as if they have all the time in the world.

But none of that brings a stop to the onslaught of tears that make their way down Annabeth's face. The hems of her sleeves are damp and ruined. So it's only 9 minutes until the black haired girl beside her breaks the silence.

"Annabeth?" She whispers while pulling to a stop at a red light.

"Hm?" The blonde sniffs and wipes at her tears before looking over at her friend. "What is it?" She _hates_ the way that her words shake.

Thalia sighs knowingly and glances over. Her electric irises are concerned, but pitiless. "You wanna talk about it?"

Annabeth exhales heavily and focuses her attention through the windshield. The traffic lights are all a bit blurry and out of focus, but it would be useless to put on her glasses, so she forces herself to deal with it. She purses her lips and leans her head against the suede seat, debating if she wants to answer the question.

The twenty year old beside her nods slowly. "I get if, if you don't." The car lurches forward as the light turns green. The volume of the music climbs just a bit higher, as if she's offering a bit of comfort.

 _And Annabeth is so grateful for it._

There's only a few minutes left in the car ride. Thalia glances over again before clearing her throat and speaking. "Just know that I'm here for you, alright?" Her words grow sincere. "I'll be your distraction for the night."

It isn't until they're pulling into the parking lot of the women's shelter that Annabeth forces herself to return to reality. Thalia pulls the key from the ignition and squeezes her arm. "Everything will-"

"I _hate_ my family." The blonde murmurs out.

A concerned "What?" comes from somewhere to her left.

Annabeth slowly turns to look at her friend, tears stinging her eyes and blurring her vision until she can't differentiate between physical and emotional. She bites her lip before continuing. "I _hate_ them, Thalia. _So much._ " The first tear slides past her nose and she doesn't bother to wipe it away. "I just-" Her words decay into sobs and before she can take her next breath, Thalia is leaned over the center console and pulling her into a hug.

"I know you do," the twenty year old soothes. "You have every right to." Her reassurances are almost drowned out by the ugly sniffles that Annabeth doesn't manage to hold back from.

The blonde pulls away, finally wiping at her eyes and shaking her head. "Today was supposed to be a _good_ day, you know. I took the twins out to eat and everything. _I just wanted to have a good day._ "

Thalia tilts her head, her eyes darkening. "And what changed that?"

"My dad and Helen got into another argument." Annabeth huffs and wipes at the next few tears. "Thalia, I want to _leave_. I _really_ just want to leave."

The black haired girl to her left reaches over to grab her chin. "Hey, look at me. _H_ _ey,_ " Thalia moves the blonde's face in order to focus on her. Her irises dart over her face. "You still deserve a good day, alright?" Then she glances at her phone screen before fixing her gaze back on Annabeth. "It's almost 7. That's five more hours until the day is over."

The seventeen year old nods, another drop of liquid grief dampening her shirt.

Thalia lets go of her face and holds out her hand. "I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but fuck your parents. Forget about them. Just for tonight, okay?"

Annabeth somehow manages to give her a wobbly smile before her tears regains control. She slips her hand into her friend's grasp. "Thank you, Thalia."

The twenty year old next to her gives her a smile. It's strong and loving and kind. She squeezes the blonde's hand before saying, "We're family, Annabeth. I promised, remember?"

And for the first time in a long time, the icy blue eyes that haunt her don't make their appearance in her mind at the sound of that vow. Annabeth squeezes back, nodding slowly. " _Family_ ," she murmurs.

She tries to keep that in mind as they exit the car and make their way over to the entrance of the women's shelter. The seventeen year old wipes away the straggling tears that litter her cheeks and slips on her glasses, sucking in a deep breath as Thalia opens the door.

 _She deserves a good day._

* * *

 **A/N: Helloooo!** **I'm back, and I'm alive and well after... *checks calendar* a month and 2 days!**

 **Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Seriously, I love your reviews so much and I will cherish them until I die.**

 **And _wow._ In 2 days it will be officially a full year since I published this. This fic has come so far in only a year and I have you guys to thank for it :') So thank you all so much for every read, review, follow, and favorite. Y'all are amazing.**

 **Also if you haven't heard, I published a new story called _Seeking Elysium_. It's a Percabeth Zombie Apocalypse AU. Check it out if you're interested. I'm aiming to be updating every 1-2 weeks or so, so it's something to read while waiting for Puzzle Pieces to update :)**

 **But again, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Until next time :)**

 **~ everyshadedsilver**


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